


Notes On The Fridge

by LyricalKris



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:05:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 81,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalKris/pseuds/LyricalKris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roommates Emmett Cullen and Jasper Whitlock had nothing in common save for one thing: they both knew what it was like to be the 'other' child. College is not just about discovering yourself but finding the people who will make you who you're meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Conversed](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Conversed).



> Dedication: To Conversed. This fic was conceived and plotted out by the two of us oooooh forever ago. I'm glad it's finally coming out. I'm so proud of everything you've accomplished!

**JPOV**

Mom was wearing that face I hoped I would never have to see again - the one she used to wear for Lucy where she pretended that everything was fine when really, she was falling apart on the inside.

For what had to be the billionth time, I was questioning my decision to come here.

"Son, you know that your mother and I will always be proud of you - even if you did decide to become a UPS man," my dad said, clapping me on the shoulder as the three of us surveyed the tiny room.

I managed a half-hearted smile at his attempt to lighten the situation. UPS - University of Puget Sound. Bet that wouldn't get old quick.

Something tugged in my subconscious telling me that it wasn't too late to back out. Just get back in my parent's hatchback and go home to where it was comfortable - to a room twice this size with my computer on my corner desk and blood elf posters on the wall. I could go home and work for the semester instead, and then enroll in community college. I could save my family buckets of money; it was just stupid and wasteful to pay a private school tuition for the same classes I'd pay $27 a unit for at Houston Community College.

I looked at my mom with her plastered on smile, and my dad who was trying to pretend doing what was best for your kid wasn't hard at all.

But I'd made my choice. My parents had already covered tuition for the semester. They'd already driven me three days and almost 2,500 miles from Houston to Tacoma. I was scared shitless and overwhelmed, but I was also used to making it look like I wasn't.

I guess you could say that the whole college thing had snuck up on me. Throughout my high school years, there'd been other things to think about. More important things. Then I'd heard my parents arguing about me. It was obvious my mom wanted to encourage me to stick to home - there were plenty of great schools in Houston. Dad wanted me to branch out. He wanted me to find my way in the world.

It must have been Dad who won that argument because the next day, at dinner, he broached the topic of where I wanted to go to school - had I thought about it? He said the sky was the limit. They would send me anywhere I had an interest. He wanted me to choose a school that had the very best program for whatever it is I wanted to do.

I really hadn't thought about it - the future, that is. I was used to taking life day by day because that's the way I'd lived for so long .

Day by day because tomorrow, my life could be drastically different than it was today.

With everything else that was going on at the time, I hadn't given a lick of thought to who I wanted to be when my boyhood was over. I was startled to realize that high school would end sooner rather than later, and my whole future beyond that point was one big question mark.

When I set out to find a university, I really just searched for a place.

I thought about home - how the oppressive heat and humidity of the summer was like a physical weight on my shoulders, a constant presence on my skin. And I had carried that same kind of pressure around my heart for so long. I don't know, the thought of escaping _that_ was how I drew up my list of choices.

Cool, where Texas was hot. Mountains, or at least hills, thick with trees to replace the wide open spaces I was used to. That was my criteria.

Washington fit the bill. The school was almost inconsequential. Now, though, everything seemed so... big. I felt small. When we'd first driven up and I looked out at all those kids - the way they seemed to be all smiles and excitement - I just couldn't picture myself among them. I didn't belong, could never belong, because all I felt was panic and fear. I couldn't do this. I couldn't be like them. I felt so apart from them, all alone.

It was better when I had Matilda all laid out. My dad had named my computer, of course. He thought it was funny. He said that since I was never far away from it, my computer was the closest I'd ever come to having a girl. Well, whatever - with my 17" monitor and my sleek, new, wireless keyboard and mouse, the uniform wooden desk on my half of the room felt more comforting than it had a little while before.

By the time they had helped me line the shelves with the books and movies I'd brought, hang my posters - I'd brought Firefly and Star Wars, figuring that the cartoony, bikini armor clad blood elves might not make the best impression -and my mom had laid out my old queen sized comforter on my twin sized bed, my panic had eased considerably. It was familiar.

Not home, but familiar.

The mini-fridge that my dad plugged in by the foot of the bed was new.

I pushed my glasses back up my nose as I surveyed the room. It was strange. My roommate, Emmett Cullen, had yet to make an appearance so his side was still bare and institutionalized.

"Come on, sugar," Mom said, wrapping an arm around me and squeezing. "What do you say we get something to eat?"

I followed my parents out the door but had to double back for my light jacket - that would take some getting used to, jackets in the summertime. As I was about to duck out the door again, a familiar, colored square caught my eye. It was green today, but even from across the room I knew it held the same message as always, the same message I used to stare at when I ate dinner at the table at home - alone.

_**Thinking about you, son. Love, Momma and Daddy xxx** _

* * *

**Em POV**

"Oh, my God. Dude, your roommate is a hardcore geek."

I snickered at my little brother, shaking my head as I looked around the room. "Chyeah, you're one to talk. Don't be jealous, bro."

Edward grimaced at me, his expression derisive. "I'm not a geek," he muttered.

"Ah, I beg to differ," I said with a snort.

"Watching one Star Trek movie doesn't make me a geek,"he argued, glaring at me.

"Bro, it was a marathon. And you talked like that Kirk motherfucker for like two weeks."

Edward growled and shoved me. I hip checked him and wouldn't you know it, the scrawny little fuck went flying.

And, of course, that's when our parents came in.

"Emmett! Be careful," my father, Carlisle, chastised me while my mother, Esme, raced to Edward's side.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked, checking Edward over. "Did you bump anything?"

Obviously annoyed, Edward batted her hands away. "I'm fine, Mom."

Poor kid. "Come on, Geekazoid. I still have a couple of boxes left."

"I can help you-" Dad began, but Edward and I both turned to give him a look.

"He's got it, Dad. There's nothing much in them."

Before Dad could argue, I put my arm around Edward's shoulders, leading him out of the room quickly.

"You must be glad you're getting away from all that," Edward muttered darkly, looking down as he walked. "Hell, if I were you, I'd have gone farther."

"Nah," I said with a shrug. "This was the only school I could get to accept me."

"You're such a liar," he said softly. "I saw the acceptance letter, Em. I know you got into that University you wanted to go to in Tennessee."

Dammit. Kid was too damn nosy for his own good. "So who cares if I got in? I got in to a bunch of places. This was the place I chose."

"You shouldn't do that. You shouldn't do things because of me. That's supposed to be done. I'm better now," he grumbled.

"Whoa. Edward." I stopped as we got to the car and shook my head. "Dude, check your ego. You're not the bright little center of my universe."

He looked up at me, uncertain. "You really didn't stay closer to home because of me?"

"Nope," I lied easily.

Of course I stayed closer to home because of him. Every decision our family had made in the last two years revolved around him; why should this be any different?

Edward looked mollified though, and he ducked into the car to drag one of my boxes out. I hadn't been lying to my dad - those boxes weren't heavy - yet Edward was winded by the time he'd wrestled the thing out.

It was a good thing Mom and Dad didn't follow us out. They jumped all over the poor kid when he overexerted himself, which was often. Not that I blamed him. He wanted to be better than he was. He wanted to be normal again.

Looking at him always made me feel nervous, uncomfortable. He was so skinny it was ridiculous, like a skeleton with skin. I was pretty sure a breeze could knock him over.

One minute, the kid had been the hottest commodity in his junior high class, the next he was just wasting away.

Because I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed the box from him, stacking it on top of my own and taking off for the dorms. "Anyway," I said quickly, before he could start bitching. "You can come up here sometimes. Take a break from Mom and Dad and come hang out with the cool college kids. You know - if you don't cramp my style."

"Whatever," he muttered, but I could see out of the corner of my eye he was smiling.

When I told my mother I'd gotten accepted in Tennessee, she'd sighed and said it was going to break Edward's heart. How many times in the last few years had she told me I was his hero?

_Then_ she said she was proud of me.

I got it. With all the bullshit Edward had been through in the last two years, how could I put him through that - having his brother move so far away? I wasn't entirely oblivious to how lonely he was. Two years ago he was a popular guy. Now I couldn't remember the last time he'd hung out with someone who wasn't me.

So rather than choose a University across the country, I chose one three hours away - for my brother. Because of that and because, though I'd probably die before I told him so, my fifteen year old little brother was  _my_ fucking hero.

Back in my dorm, my parents had things looking a little more homey. We all worked together to get my stuff unpacked.

Curious, I found myself eyeing my roomie's side of the room. He had a pretty sweet computer set up, for one thing. Definitely a geek.

Well, free tech support for me, right?

I spotted a single photo on his desk and wandered over, picking it up despite the fact Mom tried to tell me to keep my hands to myself.

My roommate appeared to be a skinny dude with longish, scraggly blond hair and thick, ridiculous glasses. In the photo, he was wearing a cowboy hat and had his arms wrapped around a much younger little girl.

For some reason, the girl - his sister, probably - reminded me of Edward. Maybe it was because she was about the size of a twig - skinnier even than my roomie, which was saying something. Maybe it was that she wore a beanie on her head like Edward did, though hers was brightly colored with a motherfucking huge flower coming off the side of it. Edward wore black or navy blue. Always.

"Awww, look at this. Momma and Daddy left him a note on the fridge," Edward said, snickering.

I looked, more excited at the word 'fridge.' Well, he could be a Momma's boy if he had a fridge. That was fine by me.

"You two are terrible," Mom lamented, shaking her head. "It's rude to touch someone else's things."

We finished unpacking and left to take a look around the campus...but not before I found the post-its and left my own note on the fridge.

_**Thinking about frozen burritos. Make it happen. Love, Your Roomie xoxo** _

**A/N: So this story should start updating when I mark Wicked complete in about two weeks time. Thank you so much to TheRainGirl for pre-reading and TwiTink for betaing.**

**Soooo. Initial thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gamer Guide - Translating basic gaming terms (if you're so inclined)
> 
> "For the Alliance!" - Common battle cry of the Alliance side players of the popular MMO (massive multi-player online roleplaying game) World of Warcraft (WoW).
> 
> "For the Horde!" - Common battle cry of the Horde players of WoW.
> 
> "Rend flesh with me!" - Spoke by the Undead race (skeletal, decaying humanoids), basically meaning "Dude, let's go kill shit together."
> 
> Undercity - the home city of the Undead
> 
> Raid - Getting together an organized group of 40-70 players to take down a game monster. Everyone has a job to do.
> 
> DoT - Damage over time.
> 
> CC - Crowd control. Say you're fighting two mobs. You crowd control one (in WoW, mages can turn monsters into sheep (hehehehe) ) and fight the other.

I'm not what one might call a morning person. Except for the wee hours of it, I tended to avoid morning like the plague it was. Waking up had to be my least favorite daily chore, no matter how much sleep I'd gotten.

Right. First order of the day – caffeine.

After I literally rolled out of bed, I stretched myself out along the floor reaching for the mini-fridge. My hand encountered a foreign object, and I forced my bleary eyes open.

My fridge had acquired a magnet. I blinked a few more times, trying to force my hazy brain to focus. Then I had to squint because I was blind as a bat without my glasses. Yep, there surely was a magnet on my fridge…of the sun – the grinning sun. Next to it was a post-it that I plucked off quickly.

_**J – Just in case you forgot, this is what the sun looks like. – Em.** _

I snorted, flicking on my computer as I reluctantly got myself more vertical. Shoving my glasses on my face, I opened the fridge and grabbed a can of the staple of every gamer – Mountain Dew. Before I did anything else, I drank.

Ah, yes. Surely, when the Greek gods spoke of ambrosia, Mountain Dew was what they were talking about.

Feeling a little better about the being awake thing, I stood, stretching my arms above my head before plopping myself down at my desk.

The first three weeks of college hadn't been as bad as I'd expected by a long shot, and that had a lot to do with my roommate. He was good people for sure and probably the easiest guy to get along with in the history of mankind.

I guess I'd never realized how antisocial I was, though, compared to Emmett, Paris Hilton was antisocial. He was always out with someone, doing something. Luckily, he preferred to be doing things away from our little room, so I got the place to myself fairly frequently.

What can I say? Alone was in my comfort zone.

Emmett was absolutely flabbergasted by my loathing of the sun. He loved being outside. Despite the fact that the sun didn't shine here  _nearly_ as much as in Texas, Emmett managed to sport a near permanent tan. The sun had been out all weekend, and he'd tried to lure me outside to enjoy it. I'd resisted.

What? I had raids, man.

That was another thing that warped Emmett's mind. He didn't understand how I could spend so much time playing a video game. Wouldn't I rather, he'd asked more than once, be out hanging with my friends?

He didn't get it. I played  _World of Warcraft_  – had since I was a freshman in high school. Not only was it a challenging game of tactics and balance, but, when I was playing, I  _was_ hanging out with my friends. Emmett and his friends tossed a football around on the quad, my friends took down Kel'Thuzad.

Emmett's teasing was good natured though, and I spent my first few minutes of the morning – well, I suppose it was early afternoon – searching for a picture of the actual sun. I found one that I could work with and readjusted it so it was the right size. I printed it out, cut the excess paper and taped it to the front of the magnet. Finally, I scrawled on a new post-it:

_**Em – The sun doesn't have a face, you're thinking about the moon. No wonder you're failing astronomy. - J** _

I write small when I want to.

Emmett, I knew, was already in class. That was because my roomie was a chump. Who did that? It was college - we were finally allowed a modicum of complete and total freedom, and he takes morning classes? One of his classes started at eight.  _Eight_! I knew better than to take morning classes because I knew one thing for certain: there is absolutely nothing you can learn out of one blood-shot eye.

Feeling a little more human now that I had Mountain Dew coursing through my veins, I started gathering my things to head to the showers. Communal showers were not good times. It reminded me too much of gym – and I hated gym. I still wasn't used to showering with my shoes on…if you could call flip-flops shoes.

I guess if the worst part about college was having to shower with shoes, I couldn't complain. The classes weren't too hard, so far,

Mostly, if I had to be honest, I guess I had to admit that it was a relief being away from the quiet of my house back in Houston.

The first few days, it was a little jarring. I almost felt like all the other kids around here, all so loud and rowdy, were being disrespectful. I got a little pissy until I realized... this is what normality sounded like.

My house hadn't been normal for a long, long time.

After that realization, I started to enjoy the near constant hubbub all around me. I guess it was the sign I needed. Life really does go on.

After I showered and got dressed, I headed downstairs. I had one class that day and just enough time to stop at the coffee shop before I got there. That made me a little jauntier, 'cause I knew my favorite gal was working this afternoon.

It wasn't like  _that_ , though.

Honestly, it was beyond me to figure out what was going on in my own head. Alice... well, there wasn't a damn thing wrong with her. She was gorgeous, funny, and smart.  
Anyone who saw me with Alice would think I was a different person. She just made me feel comfortable. Besides, she spoke my language.

"For the Alliance!" she greeted me, pounding her chest with her first.

"For the Horde!" I corrected, pretending to scowl at her. She glared right back.

Neither of us could hold it for long. We both started giggling.

I looked at her pretty smile, and I tried to figure out what I felt.

I liked her, genuinely I did, but...

Maybe the downside to being so far away from my parents was that suddenly, I didn't have to worry about them all the time, and that meant, I was thinking about myself a lot more than I was used to.

The other guys all around me didn't have a problem being crude about girls. I mean, obviously, I wasn't going to be obnoxious to her face, but shouldn't I be thinking something crass? Or maybe trying to sneak a peek at her boobs, or something?

Emmett was downright blatant with that shit.

Whatever.

"Alliance is for twelve year old kids. When are you going to join the better half?" I asked as I pretended to peruse the menu. We both knew that I was going to get the same thing I always got.

"Mmm. I like being a gnome," she said, scrubbing the counter. "They are just the right size you know." She winked, and I grinned. "Besides, I don't know if I could handle being a newb again."

"Come on, Alice. I'd re-roll with you," I offered spontaneously. It would just be so nice to have a friend both online and offline. "I don't have an undead. Think about it. We could come up together and rule the Undercity. What say you? Rend flesh with me."

She laughed. "Tell you what, if one of the idiots who come in here trying to pick me up used that line on me, I'd definitely say yes."

The way she looked at me, from under her lashes, made me duck my head. Any other idiot would have jumped at the opening she gave me.

Me? I ordered.

I spent more time running over the scenario in my mind than I did listening to my English professor.

She liked me, I think.

I mean, I'd be the first to admit I was an imbecile about the whole girl situation. Could be she was just talking out loud, like she would to any friend.

But... I think there was something to the way she batted her eyelashes, right?

And really, what the fuck was wrong with me? So what if I didn't feel any of that below the belt bullshit? Maybe after living the way I did for so long, it didn't come natural. A date with a beautiful girl wasn't a bad thing in any guy's book. I didn't have to feel anything to spend a little time with a girl, did I?

Did I?

Class let out, and as I walked back to the dorms, I thought about heading back over to the coffee shop, but who was I kidding?

Anyway, when I got back to the dorms and saw I had mail, all my pondering came to a halt. Seemed that Momma had sent me a care package.

There was an assortment of brownies and cookies, and while I did appreciate that, there was another item that caught my eye and made an all too familiar lump rise to my throat.

Momma always seemed to know when Lucy left the forefront of my mind.

I picked up the little magnet, remembering when Lucy gave it to me.

She was so proud. I came home from school, and she hopped down from her usual perch on the couch and run over to me. Well, she walked as fast as Lucy ever could - fast enough that I remembered telling her to slow her roll.

So, of course, when she got to me, she was winded as all hell.

"Look... Jaspa!" she'd exclaimed, excitedly pressing what looked more like a red lump than anything else into my hand. "I made... it for... you... special," she said between gasps, smiling a gap toothed grin.

Closing my fist around the little lump of clay she'd explained was supposed to be a heart, I tried to put walls on the overwhelming feeling at the center of my chest.

I thought I was outrunning this. I thought being so far away, I wouldn't have to be faced by my mother's constant need to remember. She couldn't let go, didn't want to let go.

So what else was new? I'd have been lying if i didn't admit that carrying around my parents' sadness was one thing I knew I wasn't going to miss. As it was, it still occupied so much of my time - wondering if they were okay, calling them frequently to make sure they were getting on without me.

Sighing, I stooped to place the little heart magnet on the fridge and reached for my phone.

Message received, Momma. Lucy wasn't going to be forgotten.

**~Emmett~**

The second I got the door open, Jake brushed passed me. He flopped down on my bed, all sprawled out and shit. "Holy shit. That game was intense man. It's just basketball, not war."

I grimaced. "Bitch. You're getting the scent of sweaty man all over my blankets."

Of course, that was Jake's cue to rub his sweaty self like, all over my bed.

"Nice," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

Chuckling, Jake rolled his head. "Dude," he muttered, his eyebrows wrinkling. "Your roommate is kind of weird, isn't he?"

I followed his line of sight. Seemed like Jasper had set up a couple of weird looking figures on his desk.

"Dude knows he's an adult, right? Why is he still playing with dolls?" Jake wondered out loud.

For some reason, I bristled. Jake was a call it as he saw it kind of guy - never too serious - so I didn't know what my problem was. "I think they're called figurines. Some people collect them."

"He's just weird," Jake repeated. "Like, I'm surprised he's not here. That motherfucker is always here, staring at his computer." He sat up, shaking his head. "Remember last week when we had those girls in here? They were ridiculous hot, but he didn't look away from his stupid game! It's just not normal."

Again, I shrugged, feeling an odd discomfort at the pit of my stomach. I don't know if Jake noticed, but I wasn't all that interested in those girls either. For some reason, his words stung.

_It's just not normal._

He shook his head. "I'm telling ya, man. He's gonna be one of those guys. Don't be surprised if he goes on a shooting rampage at some point."

"Whatever," I muttered, feeling annoyed. Pushing myself off the wall, I opened the little mini-fridge and tossed Jake a Mountain Dew. When his eyes lit up, I snorted. "Guess he's not so weird now, right?"

Jake laughed. "He's still weird. Even weird people drink soda."

**~0~**

For the record, I didn't think Jasper was 'weird.' He definitely wasn't going to go on a shooting spree - I guess unless you counted that game he was always playing.

Then again, that hardly counted. Every once in a while I heard what may have been a gunshot coming from the speakers, but more typically there were all sorts of colors and sparkles on the screen.

He'd explained to me once that he was a mage... a blood elf mage, whatever the hell that meant.

Mage meant magic, right?

Anyway.

He was a quiet kid. Maybe if I studied as much as I should have, it would have annoyed me that he spent so much time on a headset talking to his … guildmates or whatever. I didn't mind that. I couldn't exactly bitch about him shouting things like, "I got the DoT on him!" when I pumped my music and invited my friends over.

But Jake was right about one thing. If he wasn't in class, he was here in our room. That just made me a little sad. I know he had one friend - he talked about a chick named Alice - but he never brought her around or saw her outside of his coffee shop stops.

It kinda got me wondering what his problem was. Maybe he was just shy. I mean, he kinda carried himself in this closed off way - with his shoulders hunched and his scraggly long hair falling into his face, and his ridiculous big glasses making him seem a little googly eyed and such.

He wasn't a bad looking dude by a long shot. He had... very pretty features. Though, maybe that wasn't a good thing to him. I know Edward always got particularly pouty when I called him pretty - but whatever, man. I got all the handsome in our family, but that poor kid was just... yeah, pretty.

Jasper was a different kind of pretty, though. It was kind of pleasing to the eye, if you could look past all the other stuff.

Dude, seriously. Guys could look good with long hair. Jake had hair long enough to put into a ponytail, and that motherfucker got laid all the time.

Just, maybe he needed to brush it was all.

I shook my head, wondering why the fuck I was so fixated on dude's hair. That so wasn't the point.

Anyway, I'd been staring at the back of Jasper's head, kinda zoning out to all the sparkling and flashing stuff on his screen, contemplating all this shit instead of doing my History reading.

"Hey, Jasper?"

"Hold up," he said, hitting one key furiously. "Fuck! If that douchebag breaks my CC one more time..."

I rolled my eyes.

When he still hadn't responded five minutes later, I called his name again.

"Ya gotta give me a minute, Emmett," he said tersely.

When Edward was really sick, I used to play the distraction game. Sometimes, he got really scared or angry or kind of pulled in on himself, and wouldn't talk to anyone. I'd go into his room and start picking up things, making comments and putting them back in the wrong place until he either unwound himself to yell at me or started laughing.

Obviously, Jasper wasn't sick, but the game got me what I wanted. I started poking around his desk, picking up his things, asking questions while he grimaced because he was concentrating on his stupid game. He put up with it until I got to the little magnet on the fridge.

"Dude, what the fuck is this thing supposed to be anyway?" I asked, examining the reddish little lump that had appeared next to the sun magnet I got him the week before.

I thought I saw his back go stiff. "It's a heart."

That made me snicker. "You got ripped off, buddy. This is not a heart. I mean, it's not even the shape of an anatomically correct heart if that's what you were going for. Maybe you should throw it away..."

At that, he spun, and I was shocked to see anger in his eyes. He grabbed the thing from my hands. For a second, I thought for sure he was gonna punch me. "My sister gave this to me," he growled.

He fucking growled at me. No joke.

I put my hands up, feeling bad though I didn't understand what the big deal was. "Okay, man. My bad."

All the anger seemed to drain from him then. His shoulders slumped, and he looked sad and embarrassed as he turned away.

There was a tension in the room that made me really uncomfortable. I found myself searching for some joke to tell, but there was something about the heaviness in the air that made me think that humor wasn't the answer to this one. The atmosphere kind of made my skin crawl.

I looked at the picture he kept on his desk of his family.

I looked at his little sister.

Then, all of a sudden like one of those, 'duh' light bulb moments, I thought I understood what was going on.

There was a reason little Lucy reminded me of Edward. Their skin had the same kind of gray pallor to it, and they were way too skinny. Uncomfortably skinny.

Little Lucy... who Jasper never spoke about, except that he mumbled her name when I asked him about the picture the day we met. And now that I looked back, when I heard him on the phone with his parents, he never asked for her, never appeared to be talking to her, never even asked them how she was.

Lucy looked sickly in that photo, just like Edward.

Except, Edward had gone into remission.

Suddenly I was sure Lucy hadn't. I was pretty sure that Lucy was dead.

I felt my throat get all tight and closed off, and for a second, my head felt kind of dizzy. If it was true, I just...

Of course, when Edward was sick, I couldn't help imagining it. What if. 'What if' had made it hard to breathe for almost two years. I think my chest ached for the whole time, and I just waited for the worst news every single time he had to go to the hospital. I just waited for them to say he wasn't going to get out.

I didn't think I took a deep breath until we finally heard that beautiful word.

Remission was the best word in the entire human language except for cured.

So if it had gone the other way for Jasper...

Well, fuck. Me and my big mouth.

"Hey, uh..." I scrambled, trying to figure out something because I hated the tension. "I can see it, now. It just takes a little imagination. That was really sweet of her."

He breathed deep, I could see his shoulders rise and fall slowly. "Yeah," he said simply.

I took the thing from him and put it back on the fridge. Looking at it, I couldn't help but snicker.

"What?" he asked, his voice rough and already irritated.

"It's nothing, dude. Just remembering my Spanish, that's all."

He turned around then, and I was relieved when he looked more confused than pissed. "What about Spanish?"

"Sun in Spanish is sol," I explained.

"Yeah..."

I pointed at the two magnets on the fridge. "Heart and sol," I said, snickering again. I don't know why it was so funny to me.

His lips kinda jerked, like he thought maybe he shouldn't laugh or something. Then he did, though it kinda sounded like he hadn't used his laugh in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank y'all for your response to this story. I'm very excited to get it written. It holds a special place in my heart.
> 
> Much love to jadedandboring and barburella for holding my hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to Interpret Your Gamer
> 
> Tank - the player that holds aggro. Usually, the player with the most hit points (life). Typically the big, buff character.
> 
> Agro – If the monster is hitting you, you have agro. Hopefully, the tank has agro or someone is getting dead very quickly.

Emmett caught on way too quickly that he could get me to agree to things when I was distracted with the game. Or hell, maybe I never agreed to anything at all. He told me I did, but hell if I remembered agreeing to an outing.

"I don't think you understand," I tried again. "The mob they're dropping tonight drops the breastplate I need. Do you know how hard it is to get a decent chest piece in this game?"

Emmett snorted. "That's your problem, dude. You're never going to get a decent chest piece in real life if you don't leave this g'damn room."

Groaning, I threw myself on my bed, staring up the ceiling. "What's so great about chest pieces, anyway?" I grumbled, mostly to myself.

I dunno. A couple of days ago, I was doing some of that deep thinking, staring at Emmett's girly posters, and it wasn't the kind of deep thinking most guys my age did when looking at scantily clad women.

I just didn't have the obsession with breasts.

Was that normal?

But Emmett didn't seem to hear me. He was poking through my side of the closet. Actually, he was opening up my suitcase, where I kept my miscellaneous accessories that I really didn't wear anyway.

"Dude!" Emmett exclaimed, lifting something out of my case. "Is this a top hat?" he asked between chortles.

I could feel my face growing hotter by the second and I leapt at him to try and get it back. He held it out of reach. "I like hats," I mumbled.

"Will you chill out a second?" he commanded, trying to hold me steady by the shoulder. When I'd stopped struggling he grinned and put the hat on my head. Then he started to crack up again. Scowling, I yanked the top hat off.

"It's just that you look like that kid from Peter Pan… what's his name, with the glasses…the brother."

"John," I muttered.

"Yeah! You look like John. Except with longer hair. John with a modern edge."

A more serious look crossed his face. "You like hats?" he asked.

I nodded in confirmation. I had a lot of hats. I didn't know what to do with them, but I could own them just the same.

Without another word Emmett went to his own drawers and started to rummage. He came up a few minutes later with a gray hat. "Here it is." He pointed to the thing. "Fedora," he said, and I rolled my eyes because I knew what a fucking fedora was. He just laughed again and put it on my head. I waited a second while he fiddled with it, tilting it this way or that, before stepping away.

Emmett grinned. "Now that works."

I didn't say anything because … Well, I didn't know how to explain it. One second I was all groany because I didn't want to go out, and I didn't want to dress up, and I felt stupid about my hats that I couldn't wear anywhere, and the next, Emmett was in my personal space, tucking my hair under his fedora.

Weird. That's how I felt right then. Not creepy weird just... aware.

It hadn't escaped my notice that Emmett was a big motherfucker. I mean, talk about chest pieces... his was immense. If he was in a video game, he would definitely be a tank.

With it in my face, I was suddenly aware that his chest did something for me. What that was, I didn't have a clue. I was just... yeah. Aware.

It was just a heavy moment. Again, not bad heavy, but I looked at him, and I didn't know what to say, and rather than bounce off to the next thing like he usually did, he looked at me. It kind of felt like the air expected us to do something, but hell if knew what that was.

Emmett swallowed hard and smiled. "Fuck, we don't have a mirror in here, do we?" He shook his head. "Anyway. It looks good. You're just gonna have to take my word for it." He frowned, looking me up and down.

"What?" I asked, squirming uncomfortably.

"Look, here's the thing. You gotta own the hat," Emmett said, shaking his head. "I love clever t-shirts as much as the next guy - not that I understand what that one means - but maybe you want to try for something a little more suave."

"Suave," I snorted.

"It's not as hard as you're making it out to be," Emmett insisted, going back to rifling through my side of the closet. He produced a black button down - maybe the only one I owned - and handed it to me just as his phone started to ring. "You'll live. I promise," he said, rolling his eyes before he put the phone to his ear.

I turned around as I slipped my t-shirt over my head making a mental note to subject Emmett to  _Firefly_  sometime in the near future - since he hadn't understood why my shirt was hilarious.

_**Define interesting: Oh, god, oh, god, we're all gonna die?** _

Of course, Firefly was going to be a lot more entertaining than whatever he had planned. I guess that just made me the better person.

"Whoa, Bro. Slow your roll. Calm the fuck down," Emmett said, behind me. "Well, I know Mom and Dad are driving you nuts. That's what Moms and Dads do. It's like, parenting 101 and shit. How To Drive Your Kid Insane."

I turned around as I started to button my shirt, and I was kinda surprised to see Emmett's eyes on me. He looked kinda startled and quickly looked down, like I'd caught him doing something, I dunno, wrong?

"Yeah, I'm still here," Emmett said quickly to his brother. He rubbed the back of his neck, kind of agitated, as he listened for another second. "Well, why the fuck didn't you say so? Yeah. It's no problem. I was hanging out with Jasper, but you can come with."

I quirked an eyebrow, wondering what the hell I'd just been volunteered for.

**~0~**

When Emmett told me that his parents were in town and his brother needed a rescue, I was a little wary.

I was already in a bad mood in general, thinking too much about what it was like to be around a sick kid. It wasn't fair comparing Edward to Lucy, but I couldn't help it. I'd be leaving in two weeks to go back to Houston for a weekend to be with my parents on Lucy's birthday.

Seeing Edward wasn't easy for me. It was hard not to be bitter, as awful as that was. The kid had obviously been ill - he was still too pale, too skinny, too... completely hairless. But Emmett had told me his story.

Edward's cancer went into remission; Lucy's killed her.

Edward got almost 13 years of normal; Lucy was diagnosed at three.

I realized just how much of a prick I was being when we went to lunch.

It took us a while to figure out why Edward got progressively pissier as lunch went by, but once we did, I was livid.

This pretty little teenage girl was full on staring at Edward with this look of vague disgust on her face.

I was about two seconds away from giving her hell until I saw the look on Emmett's face. Like a bull about to charge, that boy was, and it changed my tune real quick.

How could I resent Edward? What he had and what Lucy had weren't exactly the same, but I knew something about the things Edward had been through. I knew that he was a kid who had to live with death hanging over him and death all around him, because he surely came to know some of the other kids like him. The rest of us could stick our heads in the sand and pretend not to notice when shit got too real, but not them. They lived a reality of constant needles, and sickness, and medicine that killed their already taxed bodies right along with the disease they were fighting.

It was kind of instinctual. I reached across the table, put my hand on Emmet's arm, and he calmed down like all he needed was that touch to keep him grounded. I spotted a game on the TVs that hung in the corners of the room of the little restaurant we were in and bluffed my way through a conversation, betting Emmett that this years rookies could make it into the top tier.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he knew I didn't know what the fuck I was talking about, but he took the bait, letting himself get distracted. And our friendly bickering, in turn, distracted Edward.

Sort of.

After lunch, Emmett dragged us to a little shop, despite Edward's protests. Then he started bugging the kid to try on different kinds of hats. Poor guy. I could tell he wanted to make his little brother feel better, but all he was succeeding in doing was annoying the kid.

"Emmett, jeez! I don't want that stupid hat."

I had to cover my mouth with my hand to hide a laugh. "Emmett thinks hats are the answer to everyone's problem," I said, leaning toward Edward conspiratorially. "The only way to get him to shut up is to play along."

Emmett smirked. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe a little variety would do you some good. Beanies are nice and all - very functional in Washington - but Bro, throw a little style in there once in a while."

Crossing his arms, Edward slumped down on the little bench he was sitting on. "You're a woman," he mumbled, and I had to cover a laugh again.

"Fuck the hats, man," I said, grabbing Emmett by the arm and steering him away. "There's a nickel arcade down the block. Let's go there instead."

Emmett turned to me, his eyes wide with mock surprise. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. When did you leave the dorm to find this place?"

I rolled my eyes, grimacing at him. "I've never been there," I admitted. "Alice told me about it. But whatever man, I bet I can kick your ass on any game."

"Sure," Emmett snorted. "You better hope they don't have a hoop shoot."

He threw back his head, laughing like an idiot when he saw the dismayed look on my face.

_**~Emmett~** _

"Yo, Jake. You gotta help me out," I said to my friend, jogging up beside him in the quad one day.

He gave me the side eyes. "I don't have bail money," he warned.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. You got that fake I.D. right? I need some boozage for tonight."

At that, Jake stopped, arching an eyebrow. "What do ya need booze for?" he asked, leaning in so we couldn't be heard. "There's gonna be a killer party at Sam's place just off campus. It's not BYOB, dude."

"Well, fuck that." I waved my hand. "I'm interested in a more private party tonight."

Jake waggled his eyebrows. "Ah, I see! Who is she, man? Anyone I know? And how the hell are you gonna get that roommate of yours out of the place? I bet I could find some chloroform, and we could hide him in the closet..."

"No!" I hissed. "It's not like that. My roommate is who I want to party with tonight."

It was almost comical how wide Jake's eyes went. Wide... and a little horrified. "Dude... are you -"

"No!" I shouted, a little too loudly. I looked around, feeling ridiculously self conscious. "Jesus Christ. It's not like everything is about getting in somebody's pants."

Jake's expression turned all thoughtful. "You know, Emmett, it's okay if you are. I get it. It would explain why you keep checking out my ass. Although, really, who could blame you, gay, straight, or indifferent?" He turned around then, stretching his hands up and doing a couple of butt clenches for the enjoyment of the general public.

I shoved him. "You wish, prick. I know you've got a man-crush on me and my sexy body."

"It's true," he pretended to sigh, tossing his arm around my shoulder. He leaned in, and I had to admit that fucker had very pretty eyes. "Emmett, if I had to choose anyone for my experimental college phase, it would be you."

For a second, the way he was looking at me had me a little tongue-tied. He almost looked serious, and I didn't know what to say.

Then, he burst out laughing and pushed me away. "Whatever, man. So what did you want?"

_**~0~** _

I got back to the dorm while Jasper was still in class, which was the plan. Quickly, I went to the little refrigerator, pausing to read the post-it.

Lately, Jasper had been leaving quotes and the occasional song lyric - typically something deep. Of course, I'd been replacing them with infinitely cooler quotes. Yesterday, I'd met his Emerson quote with:

_**Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.** _

Today, though, I had to admit his quote made me laugh.

_**Don't worry** _

_**If your job is small** _

_**And passing grades are few.** _

_**Just remember** _

_**The mighty oak** _

_**Was once a nut like you** _

Yeah, I guess I wasn't doing too well in school. I excelled at partying and, well, doing anything but sitting still in my seat. I wasn't an idiot - in high school, I got straight As - I was just restless, I guess. For a couple of years, I worked my ass off to make sure Mom and Dad didn't have to worry about a damn thing coming from my direction. I kept my nose clean.

Guess I was making up for it now.

So Jasper had volunteered to make homework a team sport, so to speak. He was good at getting shit done. Now, he'd even gone as far as tracking me down on the field, dragging me back to the dorm to study for midterms.

Between the two of us, we had all the right moves going on. I figured if he was going to remind me how to study, I was going to remind him how to have fun... without the use of his computer.

I left the note on the fridge alone and opened the thing. There was some take-out on the top shelf that I was sure had gone bad by now, so I dragged it out, replacing it with beer and the bottle of vodka I'd had Jake procure.

As I shimmied underneath Jasper's desk, I was humming 'Red Solo Cup' - which had gotten in my head for obvious reasons. I'd just found the power chord to his computer when I heard a sharp, "Hey, what the hell are you doing."

Uh-oh, caught.

I put on my most charming grin as I straightened up, danging the power cord out of his reach. "Since you refuse to go to a party, I'm bringing a party to you - only your good friend Mr. Computer here isn't invited."

_**~0~** _

A few of hours later, Jasper and I had come to a compromise and were well into our party for two.

I'd agreed to let him keep the computer on, but only for entertainment purposes. He'd been trying to get me to watch this defunct TV show called  _Firefly_  for weeks now. It sounded stupid. Space cowboys? Come on.

But then he'd pointed out that we were lacking for something to do during our party. That was true. We could pump up the music, but I wasn't gonna bump and grind with him, so what was the point?

Man, I fully expected that I was giving him his first taste of alcohol, so I was a little shocked when he tilted back the first shot I poured him without flinching.

"My dad used to drink whiskey when it was Mom's turn to stay with Lucy at the hospital and he didn't have to work," he explained, looking at the little plastic shot glass instead of me. "If I sat at the table, he would pour me a shot, too." He shrugged. "Sometimes, when I was alone, I poured myself a shot."

I understood that, like, a lot. When Edward was sick, I met a lot of other sick little kids and their not-so-sick siblings.

It's hard being the other kid, the healthy kid. There's a lot of guilt that goes along with that, but also, there's a lot of other stuff, too. Parents, understandably, concentrated so hard on the kid who's knocking on death's door, that a lot of the healthy kid's needs got overlooked.

I knew one girl who had a little sister who died shortly after Edward's cancer went into remission - she was so starved for love and affection that, long story short, she ended up pregnant at thirteen. Thirteen!

So yeah, a little underage drinking... Well, I was just glad Jasper hadn't ended up with a problem. It could have happened. It would have been way too easy.

But all of that shit was too much for a Friday night, so I poured a generous amount of booze into two red solo cups, filled the rest with Mountain Dew, and got to drinking until I wasn't thinking of all that other stuff anymore.

Besides, Jasper was right.  _Firefly_  was motherfucking awesome!

"Dude!" I snorted, falling over laughing. "Did that Captain guy just shoot that other guy in the face? He didn't even flinch! That was great."

We were leaning up against my bed, watching his monitor, which was propped up on his bed, and I knew we were very drunk because we were doing that whole careening, leaning thing, and giggling like little girls.

"You don't get a lot more badass than Malcolm Reynolds," Jasper declared.

"I gotta admit, it's a good thing your computer is so tricked out," I said a few minutes later when the episode ended. "I kinda miss my TV."

"There's nothing wrong with your computer, Emmett. You can watch stuff on a laptop. You don't need Matilda for that," he mumbled.

I know I must have looked confused. "Who's Matilda?"

"Oh." Jasper blushed. Damn that motherfucker turned red, which was saying something because he was already flushed from the booze. "Matilda is my computer."

That set off a whole other round of giggles that had him grimacing at me. "You named your computer?" I chortled again and shook my head. "I worry about you, man. I know you love the thing, but there's a line. You need a real girl, I mean, if only because think about how bad a blow job from a computer would be."

Jasper rolled his eyes. "There's no such thing as a bad blow job."

"Oh trust me, there is such thing as a bad blow job," I informed him. Honestly, I'd been with a few girls at that point and nothing had rocked my world, but some of them had been... yeah. Bad.

Jasper looked curious.

"Yeah," I continued. "And I'm not just talking about with teeth."

I rolled to my side and it struck me that I was all curled up against him, and his head was close to mine since we were both kinda swaying. Some part of me thought that maybe it was weird, but the thought was fleeting because, yeah, I was drunk.

"See," I began, blinking a few times because I'd almost forgotten what I was talking about. "It's the repetitive motion that gets you. If you're not doing anything but -" I bobbed his head, rounding my lips, "- then it just takes all the... I dunno. Good? Out of it? The sexual charge. It's all automatic then, and yeah, I can come, but it's like, thanks a lot. Now I can't do that again for at least 30 minutes. It's a disappointment."

The next second, I couldn't remember what I'd been saying because with all my bobbing, I was so close, I could feel his breath on my face, could smell the sweetness of the Mountain Dew laced with vodka.

And man, I thought Jake had pretty brown eyes, but Jasper's were kind of... yeah. Pretty.

He was staring at my lips.

And that made me stare at his.

I couldn't tell you what the fuck happened. One minute we were giggling about badass space cowboys, then we were talking about bad blow jobs, then he was looking at me with his pretty brown eyes all hooded, and man... his face was just so damn pretty and his lips were so plump and kissable that...

I fucking kissed him.

Maybe it should have freaked me out. Maybe it should have freaked  _him_ out, but after he did this hot little gasping thing, well...

Jasper kissed me back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:*whistles* And then they lived happily ever after.
> 
> Oh wait, didn't I label this story angst? Hmmmm.
> 
> Anywhoo. So sorry about not replying to reviews. Your response to this tale has been wonderful 3. I just wanted to update before my lovely beta jadedandboring comes to visit me! So fair warning - after JB leaves, I'm going to Yosemite. Updating might be a little sporadic for two weeks, but Imma try my best. Much love to all of you. Really.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understanding your gamer:
> 
> DPS - damage per second  
> DPS meter - An add on to the game that measures the damage output of you and your group and/or raid members.

_**Your mission, should you chose to accept it - which you better - get rid of all this fucking rabbit food to make room for the beer.** _

I plucked the post it - two post its, actually - off the fridge and kind of stared at them.

They seemed heavier in my hands than normal post its, and I didn't have to search far to figure out where the stomach clenching nervousness came from.

It was the end of the school year. Somehow, my Freshman year of college was about to be over with. Next week was finals, so most end of the year parties were happening tonight. I knew that, of course. I'd even been invited to one by a guy I'd gotten to know in my American History class, Garrett Larson.

But the idea of socializing wasn't what made me as nervous as a kid on the first day of school.

I hadn't had a single drop of alcohol, at school, anyway, since October - the night that Emmett brought the party to me since I wouldn't go to the party. I guess that tends to happen, though.

When we woke up the next morning, Emmett laughed and gave me a weird look, saying the events of the night before were a little fuzzy. I said I didn't quite remember.

I was lying. I remembered everything.

First kisses are supposed to be memorable, right? And it was. Being drunk meant I couldn't think about what was happening; I could only feel, and damn, it felt so good.

Everything about that night was good. It was the first time in years I'd felt so light. Maybe that was the beer, but I was more inclined to think it was Emmett. The way he laughed, it was almost impossible not to laugh with him. And it's always nice, being able to share something you enjoy with someone.

Maybe that was why I didn't notice at first now close together we were getting. We were watching the show, and all of a sudden, we kept bumping and brushing. I felt all tingly, which I thought might be the booze, and I remembered wanting to lay my head on his shoulder. I thought it was the difference between drinking when you were sad and drinking when you were happy.

Then he'd started talking about blowjobs, and I got all fixated on the way his lips looked, rounded as he mimed the action. I couldn't help it, I thought about what he was talking about - someone's lips wrapping around my cock.

 _His_ lips wrapping around my cock.

Rather than being disgusting, it made me... aware.

I mean, it wasn't as though I'd never thought about sex or anything. Yeah, I'd never had a girlfriend, so I'd never done the things he was talking about, but I'd fantasized as much as any other guy. I'd taken myself in hand and imagined it was someone else.

Maybe it was just that his body was so warm up against mine. Emmett was a physically imposing beast. I was tall, but he was tall and wide. It was impossible not to feel his presence when he was all up in my bubble.

But anyway, I remembered perfectly the way it felt, and that I couldn't stop staring at his lips.

I wanted to do a lot of things, but I definitely wanted to kiss him. It was strange, that urge, because I'd never wanted to kiss anyone in particular before. His face was so close to mine. I even remembered that the light smell of his skin, man scent though it was, made me dizzy, and I had to fight the urge to bury my nose against his neck and breath him in.

My brain was slower than usual, even with the alcohol, so it took me a second to realize he wasn't talking, and I was still staring at his slightly parted lips. But that second was all it took.

He kissed me first. I was sure of that.

That feeling of want? That anticipation? Yeah. The kiss didn't disappoint. And though I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, I wasn't thinking at all at that point, just feeling. It felt good to have his lips on mine. It was like my body knew just how to move. My head tilted, and I kissed him back, getting into it.

He giggled against my lips and pulled back, looking goofy-happy. Probably, I looked goofy-happy, too. I felt happy - all elated.

The next morning, I felt stupid and uncertain. Without the haze of alcohol, my brain was working overtime, trying to figure out what had happened and what I should feel about it.

Emmett just shrugged. He said that he'd always heard people experimented in college. Maybe it was something they put in the water, he suggested. It was good we'd gotten it out of the way early and probably a lot hotter when girls did it.

After that, he hadn't mentioned it again.

Well, that wasn't entirely true.

A few months back, I'd invited Alice over to show her the new DPS meter I'd downloaded. Emmett was studying for once - after a less than stellar first semester, he'd buckled down quite a bit - and teased us quite a bit. It was the only time I remembered wanting to punch him, but Alice took it in stride.

Sometimes, she still looked at me with this curious, longing expression, but she'd never mentioned it and neither did I.

Later that night, Emmett had bugged me non-stop about why I didn't ask her on a date or something.

"I can put in a good word for you," he'd offered. "After all, I know for a fact you're a damn good kisser."

He'd laughed his ass off at the way I stared at him, all shocked, and I know I turned just about as red as the sun was hot.

I'd been thinking a lot of things since that night we kissed, turning over possibilities in my head.

At first, I tried to ignore it, but man, specifically trying not to think about something was pretty much a guarantee you'd think of nothing but.

Which was kind of understandable under the circumstances. These were potentially life changing, Keanu-Reeves-Whoa type thoughts.

Thing was... kissing Emmett had not felt bad or wrong, even when I looked back on it entirely sober.

I couldn't regret that it had happened. I hadn't felt that good in years.

What did that mean?

Without knowing what Emmett was up to with the beer in the fridge thing, I couldn't help where my thoughts went, and I couldn't ignore the tiny, tiny, tiny twinge of hope that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to revisit that night.

I left our dorm room and found myself at the coffee shop where Alice worked, trying for the millionth time to figure myself out, trying to figure out what I was feeling. After so many years of trying to feel nothing, that shit was the very opposite of easy.

Watching Alice flit around the shop, smiling as she served frazzled looking students and teachers, I tried to think about her that way.

I thought about what it would be like to slip my hands under her shirt and palm her pert tits. I thought about how she would feel soft, her lips gentle against mine. I imagined her hands on me, and how it might feel to touch her between her legs. Warm apple pie, right?

Yeah, I felt a twinge of excitement maybe. The idea of a sexual touch wasn't unpleasing no matter what appendage the person had - or didn't have. But I wasn't so completely aware as I had been when it was Emmett I was looking at like that.

"Okay," Alice said, startling me by sliding into the booth across from me. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that? You look so guilty. What did you do?"

I looked down at the tabletop because I didn't know what story my face was painting. Guilty didn't seem strong enough for what I was feeling, but it was part of it.

"I think I might... like guys," I muttered to the table, finally saying the words that had been roaming around in my head for going on eight months.

Alice made a little wheezing sound, all the breath whooshing out of her, and my shoulders slumped.

Fuck.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?

"H-Hold on a second, okay?" she said shakily, and I nodded, feeling completely miserable.

I didn't look up the whole time she was gone, but a few minutes later, she was back. Her dainty little feet shuffled into my field of vision, and I jumped when she wrapped her hand around mine.

"Come on," she said, tugging me to my feet.

Out of sorts and, well, I guess kind of devastated as I was, I let her lead me by the hand across the quad to her dorm room. She pushed me down on one end of her bed and she sat at the other.

"Okay. Talk."

I didn't remember the last time I'd talked as much as I did then. Really, I didn't think I ever had. I knew I was rambling, but I told her about the night with Emmett and all the confusing thoughts I'd had since then.

I used to think that I just had an appreciation of the male form. I liked the way men were built - tall and broad. I liked the bulge of muscular arms and legs, the look of strength. I liked...

I liked boys. Men.

"Fuck," I muttered, burying my head in my hands when I'd finally run out of words.

Alice didn't say anything at first, and I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. I wasn't oblivious to the world and how some people reacted to the thought of a guy being attracted to other guys. At that point, I didn't know if I would have disagreed with her if she chose to have one of those hate monger moments.

I wasn't a homophobe - never had been. I didn't think it was unnatural, or wrong, or anything like that. But fuck, man, it was a little jarring.

Yeah, a little like that tsunami in Japan was just a splash.

Alice didn't yell, though. She didn't act disgusted. What she did do was scoot closer to me until our knees were touching as we both sat cross legged on her bed.

"I want to try something," she said softly, her hands on either side of my face. Though I still didn't look at her - I couldn't - I did let her pull my face up.

She kissed me then, soft but firm.

It was a nice kiss, and I wanted so much to respond. But where, with Emmett, my every reaction had been innate, natural, I was completely outside this kiss. It was, for me, robotic; pleasant, but not at all natural. My brain was still too present. There were no tingles.

I bowed my head when the kiss broke, feeling horrible.

She was perfect. She was gorgeous and smart. We were compatible on every level.

And I felt nothing for her physically.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Na-uh," she said, more volume in her voice than I'd heard since I told her. Her hands on my face, she made me look up again. "No," she said again sternly. "Don't you dare be sorry, Jasper Whitlock. You have nothing to be sorry about."

Her eyes were a little watery, but when I finally looked up at them, I could also see she was completely sincere. There was a fierceness there, a protectiveness.

She was still my friend.

Something inside me snapped then, and I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around her and burying my head at the crook of her shoulder. I didn't even realize until that moment how badly I was shaking - like a jittery little dog stuck out in the cold, biting rain.

For the second time in my life, the world was coming down around me. It was different and the same. It was like when Lucy had died, and I knew the world as I knew it was completely shattered. Nothing was ever going to be the same, and I just couldn't figure how I was supposed to live with this knowledge - how I was supposed to function.

But it was different; so different.

When Lucy died, I put on a stoic face. I held my mother when she cried and patted my dad on the back when he finally broke down. It hurt so bad I could hardly breathe, but I didn't get to show it.

This time, Alice held me while I trembled and wept like a little girl with a the skinned knee. When I tried to suck it up and pull away, tried to pretend that I wasn't as shaken as I was, she wouldn't let me go. She put her arms around me and ran her fingers through my hair. She whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek, telling me it was fine. Everything was fine, and it was going to be okay. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all," she said. "Everything's going to be fine."

After a few minutes, I felt like fine was a very real possibility, which was a lot more than I can say for what happened after Lucy died.

After that, it took me over a year to figure out I could be fine again.

Actually, I wasn't at all certain I'd recovered from that, accepted it truly.

But after I had a good cry with Alice, I felt calmer at least. I straightened up and was quiet as I let her take care of me. She wiped away my tears and handed me a water bottle. The water was warm - she didn't have a fridge - but it helped loosen my tight throat.

"What do I do now?" I asked, feeling lost.

Her lips screwed up in the corner of her mouth. "Well, I guess that depends."

"On?"

"Do you have a crush on your roommate?"

I blinked at her.

Call me an idiot, but I really hadn't thought about it that way. I'd been so thrown off about the kissing a guy thing that I hadn't stopped to think about the particular guy I'd kissed.

Did I have a crush on Emmett?

After that night, I'd noticed, during fits of self-awareness, that I was cognizant of many things about Emmett. He kept a set of weights at the foot of his bed and frequently did bicep curls and that kind of thing as he studied or chatted with his parents and brother. I'd come to realize that when he did that, my eyes tended to wander, and I watched, almost fascinated, when his muscles flexed beneath his skin.

The man wore wife-beaters and boxers to bed. I wasn't unaware of how - if I was being honest with myself - delicious he looked.

He was a good looking guy; handsome. It wasn't difficult, now that I was acknowledging what I wanted, to lust after him.

I mean, I had eyes, right?

Alice waved her hand. "Never mind. That was a dumb question. And it doesn't really matter right now. You're going home for the summer, right?"

I nodded.

"So take some time to just get used the idea," she suggested. "Maybe use one of the fifty bajillion dating sites and try a date. One date isn't going to kill you."

I must have made quite a face because she laughed and bumped my shoulder. "Or not. Look, who says you have to do anything, right? You're still you, Jasper. This doesn't have to change anything except maybe what kind of porn you download."

I rolled my eyes, but I knew I was blushing.

She giggled again. "Look, if you're not ready to date or whatever, who cares? So you like looking at guys. I don't blame you. There's plenty of eye candy. I hear Texas has legit cowboys. Om nom."

At that I had to chuckle, feeling considerably better.

She pulled me into another hug. "Just don't be ashamed of it, okay? There's nothing to be ashamed of."

I thought about it for a second before I released her. "I'm not ashamed," I muttered, and that was the truth. "I'm just..." I shrugged.

"That's understandable," Alice said, nodding. Her eyes raked over me, and I thought she looked sad for a minute.

"Hey!" she said, her expression brightening. "Does this mean I get to be your fag hag?"

My laugh was kind of sputtered. "Well, hell, sugar, sure. Once I figure out what the fuck a fag hag is, the title's all yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know. Short chapter is short. Jasper had a lot more to say than I thought he did. Hmmm, these boys are already throwing me for a loop.
> 
> Much love to everyone, especially barburella and jadedandboring.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Weee.

I was spaced out. I don't know how long I laid there on my bed, tossing a baseball up in the air and catching it again mindlessly.

That's all that was in my head - the swish of the ball pushing and falling through the air and the thwack as it landed back in my hand.

"Emmett?"

Looking over at my open door, I wasn't surprised to see my mother peering in. I sat up, offering her a smile, and she came to sit beside me.

"Ma. How goes it?" I asked, putting my arm around her waist.

She chuckled, and patted my shoulder. "It goes," she answered easily. Then she tilted her head, studying me with that serious kind of expression that she usually wore when Edward coughed, or bumped into something, or breathed just a little funny. "Are you okay, Em?"

I know I must have looked confused. "Uh, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Mom sighed, looking all sad as she ruffled my hair. "That's the thing. I don't know. It's my job to know if you're okay and I don't. I really haven't been the best mother to you in a long while now."

"Ma!" I protested, but she cut me off, shaking her head.

"No, Emmett. I know it hasn't been easy. You're the one part of my life that can function without my attention and I've let you. That isn't right."

"I'm fine," I said again, bumping her side. "You know. College is good, summer is better. What else is there to say?"

She studied me again, all worried, and I tried to smile at her. She was kind of creeping me out, or making me nervous anyway.

"You know you can still talk to me, right? Or Dad? I know we've been focused on Edward, but that doesn't mean we're not concerned about you."

"I'm fine," I repeated for the hundredth time.

"Okay." She smiled at me. "I was thinking about making Nutella and banana sandwiches. Do you still like those?"

Now she was speaking Emmett. "If it's edible, I'm always interested. I'm still a growing boy after all."

"Oh my! That's a frightening thought." She made a point of looking up at me.

I laughed and hugged her. "I'm going to be like King Kong," I threatened, bringing my arms over my head like a big ape. "You'll be like the chick I carry to the top of the Empire State building in my hand."

She raised an eyebrow. "We're in Forks, honey. The tallest building here is the hospital."

"Oh, right."

When Mom was gone, I laid back down, folding my arms behind my head and staring up at the bikini clad model on my ceiling.

I guess it was as good a question as any. How was I, really? Mostly, not even I stopped to think about it, so I guess I was a little mystified that Mom felt so guilty about it.

Unlike my little brother - that motherfucker never stopped thinking - I suppose I was a day by day, minute by minute kind of guy.

But...

When my thoughts did wander from whatever it was I was doing, they usually ended up in one place.

I didn't know what to think about what I thought.

The end of the semester party I threw was small. How could it not be? College students were pretty crafty about hanging out in small spaces but there are only so many bodies you could reasonably squeeze in one dorm room. So Jasper's little fridge was a good amount of storage space for a few brews.

I came back from doing our laundry - which was just a habit I had. I'd done everyone's laundry after Edward got sick. Jasper thought it was weird at first but then he was okay with it as long as I stopped teasing him about his tightie whities.

Dude, what? Everyone knows you're supposed to let the boys hang free.

Anyway, so I came back from doing our laundry and found out not only was he not in the room, he hadn't emptied the fridge like I asked. I knew he'd gotten the note - it wasn't there anymore - but the fucker was no where to be found.

But whatever. I met up with Jake and we exchanged duffel bags like it was a covert operation or some such thing - which I suppose it was. Not like I was supposed to have beer in my room, right?

When I came back, Jasper was cleaning out the fridge like I'd asked.

"Alright! Down with lettuce, up with, uh," I'd stumbled because our door was wide open, "libations."

Jasper had rolled his eyes at me, but he looked kind of pale. His eyes were doing this weird jittery thing, darting all around. "Trying to ace your English final with the big words, eh?" He dropped his tone. "You know, in a college setting, most people know that libations typically refer to an intoxicating beverage."

"Must you show off?" I'd asked, shaking my head. I hip checked the door closed. "Make way for the non-intoxicating libations."

The guy was all jumpy, and I had no idea what the hell was going on with him. When I brushed by him to kneel in front of the fridge, he jumped back like I was on fire or some such shit.

"So, dude," I said, trying to distract him. "Jake is bringing over some truly hot chicks. I'm telling you, he was right to join the track and field team. That's a co-ed team and those girls..." I whistled. "Legs for days, my friend. Legs. For. Days. This is a dress to impress kind of night."

He'd made a face. "I think I'm going to be... not... here."

I'd looked up, putting on my best bitch-face expression. "Don't get all wiggy on me," I warned. "Come on, kid. Let loose. It'll be okay. The proportion of girls to boys is in your favor. Maybe this time you'll get a kiss from the right sex."

I laughed, but Jasper looked like someone had a grip on his testicles and was squeezing for all they were worth.

"Dude, seriously. The year ain't over yet. You might get that score in before the buzzer." I stood and walked over to the closet. "We'll find you something suave."

I was way surprised when he grabbed my arm and tried to drag me away from the closet. "No, man. Really. I don't want to be here."

"This is your room, too. Just relax. The girls are nice - at least the ones I've met."

"I don't want to talk to the girls," Jasper tried saying, and I interrupted him.

"Look at the room. We're starting out small here. Jump in with both feet. Maybe next year, we'll work our way up to frat parties. Those girls are a little intimidating, let me tell you. I'm not trying to sic a skank on you your first time -"

"Emmett!" he said loudly. "I don't. Like. Girls."

And just as I stood there, staring at him like an idiot with what my dad used to call my fly catching expression, the door came crashing open, and Jake came in with the track and field girls.

Since then, if I was thinking about something that wasn't what I was doing right that very moment, I was thinking about Jasper and the fact that he liked dudes.

I mean, especially given what had happened last October with us getting all stupid drunk and making out, it was something to think about.

"What would you do if you found out your roommate was gay?" I'd asked Jacob that weekend, which, in retrospect, was probably not the best idea. There wasn't a whole lot that Jake took seriously; it was what made us such instant friends.

He'd snorted. "Man, I'd go queer before I believed Quil would. Asshat is addicted to pussy. He couldn't give it up even if he was gay."

"That's not what I asked," I'd pointed out.

"I dunno. Maybe I'd charge him for the show he gets when I come back from track and peel off my shirt." He cackled. "Lauren told me that was hot. And I know he has to have caught a glimpse of this fine ass," he smacked his butt, "more than once. No one gets a free show, and I don't want him to pay me in blow jobs, so I'd have to charge."

I'd rolled my eyes, but I'd thought about what he said.

I think it was inevitable to wonder if Jasper thought of me... that way.

When I woke up the night after we made out, the first thing I thought was that I didn't want things to get weird between us. I liked Jasper a lot, and we had to be roommates for at least the rest of the semester, so you know, why make it awkward? Looking back, I certainly didn't mind that we'd kissed.

I meant what I said: Jasper is a damn good kisser.

So I laughed it off, and Jasper shrugged and said he didn't remember - which I knew was a damn lie. I could see it in the way his eyes got all furtive - he remembered. So I teased him a little about it.

Looking back - the way his smile was all weak when I made a joke about it - well...

What if it had meant something different to him?

Because I remembered that kiss; good kissers were few and far between. I remembered that I started it, and he'd responded to me.

Did he respond because he liked me... like that?

And if he did, what was I supposed to do with that? We'd already made plans to be roommates again the following year.

I'd triple checked my feelings, as weird as that sounded to say. I didn't feel disgusted or anything like that. If anything, anyone finding me attractive is just, well, I didn't have any shame admitting there was a lot of nice to look at.

And really, that was all incredibly pompus. Just because he liked dudes didn't mean he liked dudes like me.

It really didn't bug me.

So why couldn't I stop thinking about it?

As I laid there, trying not to think - which of course meant I was thinking about nothing but - another memory wormed its way into my brain.

I guess it was Sophomore year of high school when it happened. It was just before Edward got sick.

There was this guy in my Chemistry class - scrawny, day dreaming little kid named Demetri. He used to get bullied quite a bit by the guys on my wrestling team. It didn't help that he was a little bit strange and a little too pretty.

If they did it when I was around, I told them to back the fuck off. Never did understand that shit, and soon Demetri kind of gravitated toward me. That was fine. Like I said, he was strange - the shit that would come out of this kid's mouth, you just never knew.

We got to be pretty good friends, and I invited him over one day when my family happened to be out. We were hanging out in my room, playing video games, but I could tell he was bored, so I turned the game off. We were sitting side by side on my bed, I turned to talk to him and he kissed me.

I was completely blown away - like heart stopped, all thoughts frozen, eyes wide watching him, blown away.

I think I kissed him back because I didn't know what else to do.

At first, I didn't even notice that his hand was on my leg, but as it creeped further down...

My thoughts were all stuck on stupid. I swear my body was just acting on instinct. I laid back on the bed because I felt all woozy and weak. Demetri straddled me, and he kissed me again. I could feel his cock all hard through his jeans, and he was brushing himself against my cock.

I remembered moaning. Really loudly. That kind of woke me up, and I pushed him away. I don't think I'd ever been that breathless.

We looked at each other. I still remember the way he was all flushed, and he licked his lips, looking hungry like he wanted to come back for more.

But I sat up and turned the game back on because fuck if I knew what to do with all that.

For maybe three weeks, I was... confused, I guessed was the best word for it.

I mean, to that point, I'd only ever kissed one girl before. It was cool, but it wasn't fantastic or anything. Demetri was a better kisser. His lips felt good, the way they moved against mine, and he was better than that girl because he didn't just stay in one place.

My brain was shut off by the whole a-boy-is-kissing me thing, and my body reacted, kissing him back, that was all. Right?

And when he'd climbed on top of me, of course I moaned. No one had ever touched me like that except for me. A body is a body, and Demetri was warm - hot really - and he was built all skinny and light, just like a girl.

Course, I did feel his dick poking me.

And my dick was hard...

But I mean, the rubbing... yeah.

For those weeks, I wanted desperately to talk to my mom and dad about it, but I was afraid. Of what, I didn't know. My parents had always been level headed. They taught me and Edward both that the whole gay thing was normal and natural.

Before I could ask, though, Edward got sick. Then Edward got really sick, and I pushed Demetri and what we'd done to the back of my mind.

"Emmett! Edward! Sandwiches are ready!"

Man, thinking this hard kind of made my head hurt. No wonder Edward always had a headache.

I got up and pounded down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Ma. You are the best," I said around a mouthful of deliciousness.

She made a face at me. "For heaven's sakes, Emmett. Don't try to talk and chew at the same time." She shook her head.

Edward finally made his way down. Kid looked piqued, and it made my stomach do an uncomfortable twisting thing.

Of course, Mom noticed, and was over to him in a flash. "What's wrong, honey? What is it?"

Watching Edward get pissy, pushing her away while she asked a litany of questions, I was glad I hadn't told Mom what was on my mind. It was all bullshit that didn't really matter anyway.

There were a lot more important things to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Barburella wrote this, but I decided to leave it in since it's true: I just wanted to say how much I love Barburella. She stays up with me to read my words when it's too late for her to be conscious. Hahahahahha
> 
> This is what happens when you let crazy people into your docs, js.
> 
> Thanks to jadedandboring and thanks to all of you. MWAH.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gamer Speak:
> 
> An instance - a mini game within the big game taking a group of people maybe an hour to complete.
> 
> Vent- Ventrillo - a chat client most gamers use to communicate. A guild would have their own ventrillo server where only their members hang out.
> 
> Farming - Killing mobs that are known to drop rare items that can be sold (in game) for a lot of (in game) money.
> 
> Shadowmoon Valley - A high level area in World of Warcraft.

"Hot shit. We're moving up in the world!"

This year, Emmett and I had a bigger dorm room - two rooms instead of one: the bedroom and a living room with a kitchenette. Emmett was excited. I was nervous. Two half grown boys with a stove-top just sounded like a recipe for disaster, especially when one of them was Emmett.

"Fridge is bigger," I pointed out. This one came up to just below my chest.

Reaching into the box I carried, I took out Lucy's heart and Emmett's sun, placing them on the fridge.

"See, now they just look lonely," Emmett said with a chuckle, elbowing me in the side.

I rolled my eyes at him and moved off to the room we would share for the upcoming school year.

This time around, my parents had put me on a plane with my stuff rather than drive down. It was still hard for Mom; I could tell. She didn't like having to let me go away again.

I'd be back for Lucy's birthday, though. Again.

Emmett's parents didn't have that far to go, and they saw him a lot more frequently than mine saw me, so they were around.

And so was Edward.

"Hey, kid," I greeted, setting my laptop bag on my desk.

Edward, who had been lounging on Emmett's bed, sat up, peering over at what I was doing. "That's a pretty sweet set up."

"My friend, this right here is a gamer's paradise in laptop form." Wilma - again, my father's name for the thing - was my parents' congratulations gift for getting through the first year of college. I wondered if I got one for every year I finished.

As I flipped my new system on, Edward watched curiously. "You spend a lot of time on this game, huh?"

I snorted. "More time than I'd like to admit, I suppose. But it's good times." I patted my computer. "Most of my friends are in this box, ya know?"

He smirked at me, but then his expression turned contemplative. "I've been thinking about trying it," he said nonchalantly.

A few hours later, I'd all but forgotten our conversation when Emmett came back in from having dinner with his family.

"Man," he said, throwing himself down on his bed. "You're trying to corrupt my little brother," he accused.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, not looking away from my game.

"You're trying to turn him into one of you - a pasty skinned demon of the night."

I snickered, turning around in my chair. What I was about to say died on my lips when I realized how unfunny it was.

"Edward still doesn't have much in the way of friends, does he?" I asked quietly.

Emmett's cheek twitched, and he opened his mouth, looking like he was going to say something but thought better of it. "He'll make more friends now that he's going back to school this semester," he hedged.

"Probably," I nodded. "I know you have opinions about my game, but socially, it's a nice alternative."

He rolled onto his side, giving me a look that wasn't entirely comfortable. "A nice alternative to what? Life? He's been on the outside looking in at people living their lives for too long now. He needs to be out there in the real world, not some bullshit world of pixels." He grimaced. "Sorry."

I didn't take any offense. Edward brought out that side of me that remembered what it was like being Lucy's big brother. Like Emmett, I wanted what was best for him. I wanted him to be happy, especially now that it seemed he'd beaten a bastard of a disease.

"One of the things I like the best about my game? No one can see you. See, whether we like it or not, all of us has a mask on out here in the real world." I shrugged. "With online worlds, I think the anonymity lets us forget all the awkwardness - the need to put up a front that doesn't reflect who we really are, but who we want to seem like."

Emmett laughed, and I blushed, realizing I'd kind of gone off into my own little world for a second.

"It's hard to explain," I said, running a hand through my hair self consciously. "The guys and girls I play with know me better, like me more for who I really am, than almost anyone out here. You have the added benefit of already having something in common. It's... nice."

"Dude," Emmett said with a huff. "You look kinda moony-eyed. Don't tell me you actually met someone this way. Like, you know, one of those weird online romances?"

I spun my chair around quickly, knowing my face had to be burning bright. There were so many reasons I didn't want to have this particular conversation.

Of course, Emmett could be trusted not to drop the subject when he realized it was getting awkward. He thrived on awkwardness.

"You did meet someone!" He rolled onto his belly, propping his head on his hands and looking at me with bright, excited, falsely innocent eyes. "Tell. Me. Everything." He said, kicking his legs up, making himself sound as much like a thirteen year old girl as a big, buff, deep voiced asshole possibly could.

I picked up a stress ball I happened to have on my desk and chucked it at him. "You're a dick," I muttered.

He caught the thing and threw it back, hitting me square in the forehead - the coordinated prick. "I'm serious. Did you really meet someone?"

At first I just scoffed because I was sure he was trying to rile me up. But the more he stared at me, the more I realized he was honestly curious. "Come on, Emmett. You don't want to hear about this shit."

"Why? Because you're talking about a guy?" He rolled his eyes. "Like I give a crap about that. Just tell me."

I debated, wondering if I was really about to tell him about my summer. Just as I was going to give in, someone knocked on the door.

"This conversation - so not over," he warned, pointing at me as he jogged for the door.

Feeling, for some reason, kind of shaky, I retreated to the safety of my online world, not quite up to facing real people.

A little while later, after I'd done an instance and calmed down, I realized suddenly that Emmett hadn't ever come back when he went to answer the door. I knew he must have still been home as I heard his booming laughter every once in a while.

Curious, I wandered out into the living room. Immediately, I felt like someone had punched me right in the gut.

Emmett was on the couch, his large body dominating the female form that was tucked beneath him. He was so huge, even though I could tell this girl was tall, I couldn't see much more of her than long blond hair flowing over the arm of the couch and a slim leg hitched up around his. Suddenly, I understood the term 'sucking face', because that was exactly what it looked and sounded like.

I must have made a noise because Emmett looked up, all startled. When he saw me, he grinned that impish, dimpled smile of his, sitting up and bringing the blond girl with him. He was completely without shame. For that matter, so was she. Actually, she kind of looked annoyed that I'd interrupted their make out fest.

Well, my bad, sweetheart.

"Ah, I almost forgot you were here," Emmett said, laughing, readjusting his arms around the girl. "I was just saying hello to Rosalie here. We met at that party - you remember."

I nodded briefly. The awkward as hell party that burst in on us about three seconds after I came out to him. The one attended by Emmett's friend Jake, his roommate Quil, and about six track and field girls - all of them long-limbed and gorgeous.

Yeah, I remembered that party. Specifically, I remembered becoming the definition of the term wallflower until Alice came to rescue me.

"Rosie," Emmett was saying to the blond girl, "you remember Jasper?"

"You cut out of the party early," she said easily, leaning back with her head against the couch, twirling a lock of Emmett's curls around her finger.

"Yeah. Other plans," I mumbled.

There was some awkward conversation. I gathered that Emmett and Rosalie had been in contact over the break via the wonder that is Facebook. They'd been flirting all summer - Rosalie lived in New York. I caught the implication that phone sex had been involved.

I got out as soon as I could, returning to my games.

Eventually, I heard the front door open. I could hear the rumble of Emmett's voice for a while so they must have been talking in the doorway. Finally, they managed to tear themselves away from each other, and the door closed again.

A minute later, Emmett reappeared, throwing himself down on his bed, but not before he set a Mountain Dew on my desk. "Thanks," I muttered.

He laughed as he settled down, his hands behind his head. "Man, we might need to devise a system with that one."

"A system?"

"Ya know - sock on the door or something?"

"What's wrong with her room?" I asked.

I mean, it wasn't like Emmett hadn't been with girls before. Last year, he'd come home several nights with hickies all over and whatnot. I'd just never seen it happen before, that's all.

"Ah, her roommate is a bitch, apparently." Emmett shrugged. "Although, who knows? Rosalie's known her for about five minutes total, and she thinks most people are bitches."

"Takes one to know one, I guess," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." I turned back to my computer. "Whatever. Just tell me and I'll find somewhere else to be. Guess it's a good thing my parents got me a laptop this year. I can be mobile."

"Well, I didn't mean it like that, man," Emmett said easily. "Not like I want to kick you out of your space. I mean, if it's all the same to you, we could just try to be quiet." He paused, and when I didn't say anything, he filled the space in that particularly Emmetty way of his. "Although, dude, you could use the time. If there isn't some guy waiting for you out in virtual land, I think it's about time you get out there and hunt. Maybe stake out the theater kids or-"

"I'm going out," I declared, standing abruptly and searching for my shoes.

Emmett sat up on his bed, his expression perplexed. "Jasper... are you pissed at me?"

"No," I chuffed immediately, digging my shoes out from where they'd somehow fallen enough under my bed that I had to get on the floor and reach for them.

"Don't give me that shit," Emmett argued. I felt more than saw him get up. His presence sort of loomed over me. "You're pissed. I can always tell when you're pissed. It kind of radiates off you. Only usually, you're pissed off at animated pixels."

I stood and faced him, except I was kind of looking down at the ground. "What the hell would I be mad at you about?"

"That's kind of what I want to know."

I stayed quiet because I sure as hell didn't know what was wrong with me. He was right; I was pissed, but fuck if I knew why. There was no good reason. None.

So I took a deep breath and tried to look him in the eyes. He wasn't mad at my stupid mood swing. In fact, he looked all concerned.

"Jasper, if I said something stupid-"

At that, I had to laugh. "Not this time," I muttered, calming down slightly. "Look, I'm just going to take a walk, okay? It's nothing you did. Really."

He didn't look pleased about it, but he let me go without further comment.

When I got outside, I felt better and worse. I felt better because the cool Washington air calmed me all the way down. I felt worse because... well, I just felt stupid, that was all. How could I not? I'd been this close to a full blown hissy fit and for what?

As I walked, I took out my phone and sent a quick text message.

**Can I call you?**

My phone chirped just a minute later.

_**Hold tight for five? I'll call you.** _

The little words brought some relief.

Since my little - little in the way Andre the Giant was a midget - epiphany last semester, I'd been doing more than my fair share of deep thinking. Realigning your sexual orientation in your own head was easier said than done.

That's where Peter came in.

Now, technically I'd known Peter for a couple of years. He was one of my guildmates, actually. His character's name was Tokengi - token guy - because he was the token gay guy in the guild.

He was whip smart and funny, taking the good natured ribbing the guys dished out in appreciated that he wasn't sensitive. In fact, he gave just as good as he got in that realm, frequently flinging back, "Honey, I'm more of a man than you'll ever be, and more of a woman than you'll ever get."

Course, I knew he'd stolen that from Rent, but I wasn't going to out him.

That summer, some of the things the guys said - the way they spoke - hit me a lot harder than it ever seemed to effect him.

So, one night when it was just the two of us left in Vent - we were farming together in Shadowmoon Valley - I asked him if it bothered him: all the teasing, and the fact they usually used him as an excuse to say whatever they wanted to say about boys who liked boys. You know, the old, "one of my friends is gay, so I'm not being a homophobe," excuse.

"You learn to pick your battles," he'd said easily. "It's ignorant, and it can be infuriating. But there's something to say about individual cultures. Gamers have their own culture and passive aggressive gay bashing is part of that. Do I wish it was different - yeah, I sure do, but I'm not going to change the world by calling them on it. If I called them on their bullshit every time it happened, I would never have fun playing this game. I'd be too busy fighting the good fight constantly."

When I kept asking him questions, he figured me out pretty quickly. I was nervous and school-boy shy at first, but Peter made me feel comfortable.

I guess I just needed other people to talk to about all this. Alice... she was great, she was so supportive, but she'd never been through what I was going through. Peter was only a year older than me, but he'd figured himself out in high school. He was a step ahead, as it were.

By the time my phone rang, I'd found a quiet corner of the campus.

"Hey, sugar," Peter greeted. "How's your first day back going?"

When I heard his voice, I felt instantly soothed. "Ah, it was fine until I started acting like a freak a little bit ago."

I outlined the situation. "I don't know why it pissed me off," I said with a grumble. "All I know is that when I saw them with their tongues down each others throats, I was just... angry."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long minute. "Jazz..." Peter finally said, his voice strangely hesitant. "Do you … like your roommate?"

"Emmett's a great guy. He's my best friend," I answered.

"No. I mean do you  _like_ your roommate," he leaned heavily on the word.

Even though he couldn't see me, I didn't say anything, instead sitting there and blinking. It was the second time this question had come up - once with Alice when I finally admitted I liked boys - and I was no more sure of my answer now then I had been then.

"Ah, hell," I muttered. "He's my best friend," I reiterated. "There are some things you don't think about with your buddies."

"Well, I understand why you think that, but you called me because you're confused. My friend, we've had this discussion before. I realize that guys aren't prone to deep thinking, but if you want to untangle yourself, deep thinking is required," he said, his voice teasing but gentle. "If you have a crush on him, it's not like he has to be aware of that fact - but you do, if you want to deal with it."

I growled, digging the heel of my hand into my forehead.

On the other end of the phone, Peter chuckled. "Well, hell. Maybe what you ought to do is get yourself a pretty little boy-toy of your own. See how he likes it when he catches you making out on the couch. Turnabout is fair play and all that."

Instantly, my throat closed up, and I broke out in a cold sweat. I opened my mouth to answer, but all that came out was this choked little whine.

Pathetic.

"Whoa, whoa," Peter said, his voice soothing like he was speaking to a twitchy horse instead of me. "Still haven't worked up to that point, huh?"

I huffed out a wry, raw sounding laugh. "Peter, I don't even know where to start. I don't know how to tell. I don't..." I chuffed again. "I mean, maybe that's why I'm so fixated on Emmett. He's the only person I've ever kissed. Ever. I mean, besides Alice, but that doesn't count. I have like... zero experience in anything remotely like flirting with anyone, let alone with guys."

"Oh, that isn't true. That isn't true at all, sugar," Peter interjected.

"What are you talking about?"

He laughed again. He had such a nice laugh. "You are just about as clueless as they get, aren't you?"

For some reason, his words didn't sound harsh when spoken with a Georgian lilt. He sounded just a shade off home. It was comforting. "Enlighten me."

"Honey, if you haven't been flirting with me intentionally these last few weeks, then you're a natural." He whistled lowly. "God, those Washington boys aren't going to know what hit them."

I was honestly perplexed at that point. "Peter, what are you talking about? I haven't... I don't..."

"Oh, yes you do." His laugh was more boisterous now. "What is it you think made me send those photos to you, hmm? You think I'm just naturally slutty?"

A couple weeks ago, after we'd spent the better part of the night laughing and talking boys, Peter had sent me bathroom mirror pictures of himself. You know - posing, mostly naked, taking a picture in the bathroom mirror.

Peter was ridiculously hot. Fit. Muscular. Not like Emmett, but nicely built with a gorgeous smile and pretty green eyes.

"Well I... I..." I stumbled, completely at a loss for what to say.

"You're a charmer, when you're comfortable, Jasper," Peter asserted.

"If I lead you on," I started, feeling horrible. I'd thought his pictures were just him teasing me. You know - gentle ribbing.

"Oh, no. No. Honey, I know where your head is at. I know you don't know which way is up right now. Don't you worry your head about me," he said quickly.

"Fuck. Now I'm going to worry that I'm going to accidentally lead someone else on," I muttered. Then I laughed at myself. "But that's probably a stupid thought. I mean, I hardly say a word to anyone who isn't you, Emmett, or Alice."

"That isn't you, you know," Peter said quietly.

"What isn't?"

"The silent shy kid? That isn't you. You aren't meant to be shy. It's not in your nature. Someone as charismatic as you was never meant to fade into the crowd."

My breath kind of caught, my cheeks flushing pink and my lips tugging at the corners, wanting to pull up into a smile. Peter had a habit of making me feel... desirable, I guess was the best word for it.

"What we need to do is break you out of that shell you've built around yourself," Peter continued, oblivious to my school girl blushing. "Hmmm."

For a few seconds, there was silence, and when Peter spoke again it was him who seemed nervous.

"Jasper... are you at all attracted to me?"

If I'd had a drink in my mouth, I would have spit it right out. "W-what?"

"Tell me truly. When you look at my sexy body," he said the words teasingly, "do you get any feeling at all? You're not going to insult me. Just tell me"

"Oh, God. Peter..." I swallowed hard, reminding myself that this guy listened to my pathetic whining. If that hadn't embarrassed me to death, this would be fine. "I uh..." I laughed, feeling nervous and stupid. "Well, I won't lie. I've thought about you, and your picture, and your body, more than once when I..."

I heard his breath catch, and I stopped.

"What do you think about," he prompted, his voice lower, huskier.

I felt a stirring in my groin and a shiver went down my spine. Looking around to be sure I was still alone, I spoke again, telling the truth with my eyes closed tightly. "I thought about what it'd be like to have my hands on your back. To feel you. To touch you." I could hear his breath stutter on the other end of the line. "To feel your hands on me."

For a few moments, neither of us spoke, and then Peter chuckled again, the sound a little shakier than normal. "For the record, Jasper, that was advanced flirting."

"I was just answering your question."

"Well, you were very thorough, sugar."

There was another, heavy pause before he spoke again. "Listen... what would you say if I wanted to visit you?"

"What?" I asked, caught off guard.

"I've been thinking, maybe it would be easier for you, but I don't know," he said quickly. "I just worry about you. Your first time... times... they should be with someone you trust, someone who is thinking about you first. It wasn't like that for me, and it made things so much harder."

"What are you saying?" I asked, needing him to be clear.

He took a deep breath. "I'm saying... I want to be that guy for you. It's not about a relationship or anything like that. I want to be the guy you know you can trust, so you won't have to be afraid of things in the future."

For a long second, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Being theoretically inclined to being intimate with boys was a whole different ballgame than facing that reality.

But yeah, he had a point. I felt hopelessly out of my depth - stupid and pathetic. I was twenty years old and had never really been kissed - not by someone who wasn't drunk or wasn't trying to help me confirm that I liked kissing boys more than I liked kissing girls.

"If the idea makes you too uncomfortable-" Peter started, but I cut him off.

"No. No... I'm just … I'm surprised, that's all." I swallowed hard once, twice. "So... if I thought that's just one of the best ideas I've ever heard..."

He let out a breath in a whoosh. "Then we'll figure out a way to make it happen," he promised.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to TwilightMundi for beta help this chapter. And thanks to y'all for being patient with me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Have I told you all lately that I love you?
> 
> Cuz I do.

I should have known something was up when Jasper asked me to show him how to work out.

All the last year, I'd tried to get him to the gym with me and Jake. He'd told me more than once he was secure with his gamer's physique.

Now, he was the picture of the attentive student, listening as I explained the best ways to go about building muscles. A lot more goes into toning than people usually realize. I expected him to get overwhelmed, or keep it up for a week and then bail. He didn't. He kept at it. He got good at it.

Jasper had always been cut lean, so with as hard as he was working on it, it didn't take him too long to start getting some nice definition. He couldn't keep up with Jake and I when he went to the gym with us, but he wasn't doing badly for being a month and a half in.

It was the first weekend in October when I caught him standing shirtless in front of the mirror.

"What in the ever loving hell are you doing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I stepped through the doorway.

He jumped. How he didn't hear me, I had no idea. Subtle I'm not.

He shrugged, looking back at the mirror. "Just wish I had started all this muscle building earlier, I guess." His eyes flicked over to me in the mirror - more specifically, to my arms. "I wish I looked more like you."

That made me snort. "I'm too lumpy. It wouldn't be a good look for you. Not a lot of people could pull all this," I gestured at my body, "off as well as I can."

He rolled his eyes.

"Besides, I think you don't give yourself enough credit." Stepping up behind him, I splayed my hand over one of his shoulder blades. His skin was firm, taut, below my palm. "You can't see this as easily, but your back has pretty good tone to it now."

I heard him swallow hard, and looked up, catching his eyes in the mirror. He looked startled, his eyes kind of looked... I don't know, darker, somehow? "It's a good tone?" he echoed.

"Yeah." For some weird reason I couldn't figure, my throat was all tight, and my heart had started to beat fast. I should have dropped my hand, but I didn't. Instead, I ran my fingers up to his shoulder, cupping around. "See?" My voice was all gravely, and that was strange, too. I didn't know what to make of it. "There's a lot more definition here, along your deltoid."

Skimming my fingers down his arm - which was also showing muscle where there had been none before - I grabbed his hand, bringing it up and guiding his fingers along the new ridge. "You feel that? There was only doughy, pasty skin here before."

Again he swallowed, and I could feel his chest rising and falling beneath our hands. "How would you know?" he challenged, and his voice sounded strange, too - deeper than it usually was.

For a few seconds, it was silent, and I couldn't think at all. I'd lost track of what we were talking about, what I was doing with my hand on him like this, and him looking at me like that in the mirror. I stepped away from him, feeling dizzy and out of sorts.

"I, uh..." I stumbled, feeling as dumb as people typically assumed I was. "Hey! Why is it so important for you to be more muscley now? It takes time, and you're doing a lot better than most people."

"Um, I know," he said. He looked all flushed. "I uh... Well, I guess I really should have asked you before this, but, um..." He shook his head hard. "Would you care at all if I had a visitor?"

"A visitor?" I laughed. "Makes it sound like you're inviting an alien over."

"No, not an alien. A guy. From Georgia."

It took me a few second to process what this meant. "You mean you want him to stay with us? Like on the couch or something?"

"The couch..." Jasper hedged. "Or my bed."

My eyebrows nearly leapt right off my face. I just wasn't expecting that. "I... You... He..."

Brilliant oratory skills were definitely at work.

"Look, if it bothers you-" Jasper started, but I cut him off.

"It doesn't bother me." My voice was all high pitched, like someone was squeezing my testicles. Honestly, I didn't know what the hell was going on with me - why I was caught off guard. Obviously, I'd known since last semester that Jasper liked dudes. It was only a matter of time until I saw him kiss one. Hell, I'd even urged him to look around. The guy was lonely.

So what the hell was wrong with me? Yeah, I'd never seen anything like that, but how disgusted could I possibly be if I'd had not one, but two guys kiss me? I didn't think it was that?

So what had me all... stuck on stupid?

I rubbed the back of my head, feeling self-conscious. "So where did this guy come from? He lives in Georgia? How did you meet him? Did he used to live in Texas?"

"Can we maybe have this conversation outside the bathroom? And can I put a shirt on?"

"Well, I guess," I said, pretending to sigh. "If you must."

He looked at me with wide eyes for a beat before he started laughing. "Get out of my way, fucker," he said, pushing me aside.

I headed out to the living room, glad I had a second to get my head on straight. Why I felt, I don't know, defensive, I guess, I didn't have a clue. I just had a bad feeling.

Which got a lot worse when he told me how he knew Peter. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Jasper looked confused. "What? You know I had friends online."

"Yeah, but... I mean, that's just crazy, Jazz. He could be a creepy old man for all you know." I was pissed off at the idea of someone trying to take advantage of my friend. It happened all the time. People used the Internet for all sorts of horrible stuff.

"I've seen him-" Jasper started to say, but I interrupted him.

"So he showed you a picture of some young guy. Come on! It could have been anyone."

He glared at me. "I've seen him on a web camera first of all. What is your problem? Do you find it that unbelievable that someone might find me attractive?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ. Don't be a girl," I grumbled. "It's not that. In fact, I don't understand why you don't pick up a guy around here. You don't need to import one. I wouldn't trust anyone who comes so far for a little nookie. That's just..." I waved my hands. How could he not see how crazy it was. "I mean, you haven't ever seen the guy in person!"

"How do you know it's just about the nookie?" he returned, saying the last word sarcastically. Usually he giggled - cuz nookie is a funny word if you aren't Fred Durst. Or even if you are Fred Durst. I was a little bit shocked to see that he was pissed. I didn't think I'd ever seen Jasper pissed off. "Maybe he means more to me than that."

I looked at him, shocked all over again. "You uh... You didn't say he was your boyfriend."

"Does it make a difference?"

"Look, whatever," I mumbled, not sure how to answer that. "Do whatever you want. I don't care. But if this guy ends up wearing your skin as a jacket, don't come crying to me about it."

~0~

Every day for the four days between our discussion - which neither of us brought up again - and when this Peter guy was supposed to show up, I printed out articles about people who'd met guys online and been raped, or murdered, or cheated out of a lot of money. I didn't say anything directly to Jasper; I just put them on the fridge. And Jasper didn't mention the articles at all but when I came home every day, he'd posted articles of his own on the fridge, these all about how many married couples had met online and found true love.

What a bunch of bullshit.

The day that Peter was supposed to show up, I was in a really bad mood. After I got off the phone with my mother, I was in a worse mood.

"Fucking world has gone insane, I swear to God," I grumbled, throwing my cell down on the box crate that was masquerading as a coffee table in Rosalie's dorm. I threw my head back, staring at the ceiling.

Rose, who had been in her room, giving me some space to talk to Mom, came out. She sat on my lap, facing me, her knees on either side of my legs. I put my hands on her waist. "What's the world done to you now, Emmett?" she asked, her voice half-teasing.

Rosie was good people. She was smart and wicked funny. I liked that she was a tough girl. Those sensitive girls who pout and cry over every little thing? Yeah, no part of me could jive with that.

But that also meant that she would call me on my bullshit, and I was pretty damn sure that my irritation level was much higher than necessary for what was going on. "It's nothing," I tried to dismiss, leaning forward to kiss her instead.

She put her hand over my mouth and gave me a look. She hated it when I tried to distract her with the physical stuff. Well, who could blame me? I mean, the girl was hot and she had the moves like... someone much better than Jagger.

I licked her hand, and she scowled at me, punching my shoulder.

"It's really nothing," I said again, sighing. "Edward is talking to some girl online. Mom thinks it's so cute." I rolled my eyes. "What the hell is wrong with people you can actually touch?" I grumbled, running my hands up and down her back.

"Well, look at it this way. With online people, you know all sex is safe sex, so there's that," Rose said with a shrug.

When I didn't say anything, she shifted on my lap, starting to do this little grinding thing that she knew got me riled up pretty quickly.

Now who was trying to distract whom?

"You've been so pissy about everything lately," she complained. "It's not like you to let things bother you."

"I know," I said quietly. Then I grinned at her. "Maybe I've been hanging out with you too much. I'm getting sympathetic PMS or something."

She punched me in the shoulder again - hard enough that I actually winced. "You're such a prick," she muttered.

"You like my prick."

Her smile got sly, and she did that lovely little grinding thing again. I had to stifle a moan.

We both got distracted then, kissing and rubbing and before I knew it, she was on her knees in front of me, my cock in her mouth and my fingers tangled in her gold-blond hair.

Usually, during times like these, I didn't have a damn thought going through my head. It was all about the pleasure building. Today, the damndest, most random thought flitted through my mind.

The way I was sitting, I couldn't see Rosalie's face. All I saw was a golden haired head bobbing.

It was weird, but my imagination put Jasper in her place - his long, gold-blond hair falling in his eyes as his mouth worked over my cock.

~0~

I was nervous as a steer on ball bearings, and about as jumpy as a Mexican jumping bean. Hand to God, I was going straight out of my skin, and I couldn't seem to calm the hell down.

Peter put his hand over mine, and I jumped a mile. He chuckled lightly, and I looked down at my feet knowing I was blushing.

"Sugar, you're so jittery, you're making me restless," he said. All things considered, I was glad he sounded amused rather than annoyed. "I'm regretting going to that coffee place, but your Alice is beyond adorable."

At that, I smiled. "Alice is great."

"She's a good friend for you," Peter said approvingly. "When we find the pulse of the gay community here, she's going to be a very popular."

"Why is that?"

"You know how all straight women seem to want a gay best friend? Well, it goes both ways, honey. She's hilarious."

You know, I liked him that much more because he loved Alice. My Alice deserved all the love in the world.

"But back to you. There's something I want to try," he said, pursing his lips and looking at me with an appraising eye. I felt a shiver go down my spine, and I started shaking all over again.

As I watched, he sat all the way back on the couch spreading his legs wide. He patted the space between them. It took me a second to understand what he wanted.

I sat down between his legs, my throat too tight to speak. My lips felt too dry, and I kept licking them.

I'd been slightly annoyed when Emmett wasn't around when we got home; he was being an asshole and avoiding us. Now, I couldn't help but be glad he wasn't around. I had no idea what was about to happen, but I was happy I didn't have to worry about being self-conscious.

Peter's touch was gentle. He started at the top of my head, brushing my longish hair away from my face. His fingertips whispered along my neck, and I felt his breath hot against my ear when he finally spoke. "You're practically vibrating, you're shaking so badly."

"S-sorry," I said on a breath. I really didn't want to be so g'damn nervous. I trusted Peter, I did. I wanted this - whatever this was. I had no idea what he was going to do, but I was curious and excited, and Jesus God it felt good to have his hands on me, to have my back up against his chest.

"Don't be sorry. I just need you to understand something," he murmured, pressing sweet kisses along my cheek. "You don't owe me anything, do you get that? If there's something we start to do that you don't like, you tell me so. If you say stop, it stops - doesn't matter what we're doing." He cupped my cheek with his hand, stroking my skin tenderly. "If you want me across the room, that's where I'm going to be."

"That's not what I want." My voice was still breathy, but at least it didn't shake.

"Good. I wanted to be clear on that." With his hand on my cheek, he turned my face so I was looking into his green eyes. Carefully, he took my glasses off, setting them on the end table before he returned his hand to my cheek, tilting my chin up.

That first kiss was so sweet. He eased into it, giving me time to understand exactly what he was doing. He had one hand pressed against my cheek, the other resting over my heart. I knew he must have been able to feel the way my heart pounded, betraying my nerves even though the shaking had subsided a little.

His lips brushed mine so lightly that at first it was more like we were swapping warm air. I liked that he tasted like coffee and chocolate from the drink we'd had earlier. I liked it enough that I quickly got distracted from my jumpiness. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, seeking more from his kiss.

He gave me more readily, pressing harder against my mouth. His lips urged mine apart.

I wasn't really thinking at all at that point. It was all feeling. I loved the way his mouth felt against mine, urgent but tender, the whispers of his light stubble scratching pleasantly around my mouth, his hand on my cheek and my chest, and my hands in his soft hair.

Holy hell, when had I done that?

I was reaching back, both my hands in his hair, pulling him closer to me. It was shameless - entirely shameless.

Maybe I would have started second guessing myself, but Peter moaned into my mouth just then. The noise vibrated against my lips, and it seemed to travel straight down the center of my body, stirring things up down below.

I jerked my head away with a ragged gasp, suddenly aware that it had been a while since I took my last breath. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to calm the hell down for totally different reasons.

"You're so fucking sexy, do you know that?" Peter muttered, his lips going to my throat. He was breathing just as hard as I was, but he dragged his teeth along my neck anyway.

I whimpered a little, my throat once again too tight for words.

He pulled me back hard against him, so that we were flush. Up against him like that, I could feel that he was having the same problem I was, except for him it didn't seem to be a problem. "What should I have told you when you said you think about me when you touch yourself? I think about you all the time, Jasper. God, I get so hard so quick just thinking of your sexy voice. And having you here, where I can feel you, and the way you touch me?" He bit down where my neck met my shoulders, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough that I gasped.

"Peter," I said, my voice raw like I'd been screaming all night.

He sucked at my skin and his hand dropped from my chest, trailing down my stomach. He raised his head, taking my lips again, and for minutes our only conversation was the sound of wet kisses - mouths and tongues working together.

His hand kept drifting lower until he cupped me. I whimpered again, my body stiffening because I wanted to buck up against his hand, but that felt too needy.

"Is this for me?" he asked, rubbing me through my jeans. I groaned. "Are you hard for me?"

"Oh, God. Yes. This is all you, baby. You do this for me."

He was the one who whimpered then. "Can I touch you? Can I feel you?" he asked, breathless against my ear.

I could only nod.

Both his hands went to my fly then, unbuttoning me. His fingers were warm as they slipped into my boxers, skimming along my length.

It was fantastic. I didn't really understand it. He was doing the same things I did to myself. In fact, he seemed to know innately what I liked. He knew just how to work me. Honestly, given that it was the first time someone other than myself was stroking me, murmuring sweet, hot things in my ear, there was never any chance of me lasting long at all.

I didn't.

"Ah, fuck. I'm gonna... I'm..." I tried to tell him, not wanting to make a mess all over him. He didn't let go. In fact, he just worked me harder, his grip more firm.

I came right in his hand.

He held me as I trembled, coming down off a fantastic high. He kissed my cheek, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath my back even as I wheezed.

"I'm sorry," I panted. "I didn't mean to-"

"Hush, honey. This is exactly what I wanted." He chuckled. "Although, if you can stand, we can maybe get cleaned up, huh?"

I felt sheepish as I stood, zipping up again. We went to the bathroom, and I took his hand, cleaning me off of him, looking in his eyes kind of shy like. He was smiling at me.

And then I saw that he was straining through his jeans.

That couldn't be pleasant.

I knew what I wanted to do. My heart was pounding away furiously again, because I didn't know how to be smooth. I didn't know how not to look stupid.

I took a shaky breath, tugging his hand, leading him silently to the bedroom. When we were standing in front of the bed, I took his face in my hands and kissed him softly. His hands were at my waist. He wasn't pushing me or grinding me or anything like that.

Peter was a right sweetheart.

Though I knew my hands were shaking, I let them drift down. I felt foolish, but I remembered how much I liked it when his hand was cupped full over me, so I bucked up, splaying my palm over the bulge in his pants.

Sure enough, I was rewarded by a long, low moan as I worked my hand in circles over him. Bolstered by that - God that sound was so hot - I unbuckled his pants, shoving them down.

"Oh, fuck. Jasper. You don't... I... Ungh."

I almost laughed at that. Almost. And taking him in my hands, I was suddenly eager to do all manner of things to this man. Nearly six months of reorienting my dirty thoughts to revolve around men and all things male had left me with plenty of curiosity.

Right then, I wanted to know what he tasted like.

I wanted to know how it felt to have him, full, and hard, and hot in my mouth.

I didn't know what I was doing, but I figured he already knew that, and I knew from what Emmett had said last year that the key to a not giving a bad blow job was in not being repetitive. Vary it up a little. Then it couldn't possibly be horrible, right?

"Holy shit! Jasper!" Peter groaned, his hand going to my hair when I knelt at his feet, diving in feet - or mouth, I guess - first.

I took my time, exploring. I definitely found out about my gag reflex, but Peter soothed me quickly when that happened, running his hand through my hair, assuring me I was amazing.

And we were so caught up in what we were doing, wouldn't you know it? We didn't even hear the door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Weeeee I got GinnyW to read slash fic for me! Thanks for the beta job, sweets. Thanks also to barburella. Much heart.
> 
> So, my slashy friends. Are you a fan of some good angst? Head on over to BMango's profile and check out Find Strength In Pain - her new Jasper/Edward fic. Like I said, it's angsty, but it's oh, so worth it.


	8. Chapter 8

**~Emmett~**

"Fuck a duck! Sorry. I... uh. Ow!"

This last exclamation was due to the fact I was trying to get the hell out of my room -  _my room_ \- with my eyes closed. Which really was a futile effort because... well...

What is seen cannot be unseen.

And they were so distracted, I had seen everything.

Because, of course, I'd frozen like a deer in headlights. Or, ya know, whatever it is you call guys' balls.

Not that I'd seen his balls. Fuck no. Jasper's head had been in the way of all that.

Well, not all of it. There was plenty of it to be -

"Fuck," I muttered out loud, rubbing my eyes as if I could rub the mental images away. Not that it bothered me that dudes did that kind of thing, I just didn't want to see my roomie's lips wrapped around someone else's cock.

My stomach hurt, and I kind of felt like punching things.

"Get a grip," I muttered to myself, rubbing my eyes again.

The door opened, and Jasper peered out. His hair was all disheveled - of course, that guy had been gripping it all tight - and his glasses were missing.

I opened my mouth because g'damn there were about a thousand great jokes that should have been on the tip of my tongue and laughing about this would have been a lot better than the awful awkwardness I felt then, but my words kind of tangled up in my throat. The only noise that came out was a little whining noise made of of vowels.

Jasper rubbed the back of his head, looking self-conscious. "Sorry about that, man. Didn't hear ya."

"Obviously," I scoffed. "Whatever. You weren't on my bed." I shrugged, looking down at my feet.

There was a pause before he spoke again. "Are you pissed off?" he asked, sounding affronted.

"No," I said quickly, though when I heard my own voice, I guess I sounded kinda pissed. I tried to cover it with a laugh, but it sounded weird. "You should be pissed at me, right? I interrupted. That's never fun. It's rude to leave a guest with blue balls, or so I'd wager. My mother taught me to be polite, but she didn't cover that one."

I shut my mouth, my teeth clicking together audibly. Why in the ever loving hell was I babbling like an idiot?

"Okay," Jasper muttered.

When I looked up, another face had appeared at his shoulder. The guy was about Jasper's height with brown hair that wasn't as long, but was thick. It was the kind of hair girls loved to run their fingers through. I wasn't one of  _those_ guys that I couldn't admit he was handsome.

Jasper stepped back, and I saw his hand curl around the other guy's arm. "Emmett, this is Peter. Peter, Emmett," he introduced.

I tried to smile as I stuck my hand out. Peter's smile was kind of cheeky, almost challenging, and I felt suddenly defensive as his eyes raked me over from head to toe. "It's nice to meet you, Emmett," he said in a voice that was more light than I was used to hearing. He was a strong guy - muscular, cut almost as well as Jake was. I expected his voice to be... gruffer. "Jasper talks so much about you. It's nice to put a face to the name."

His handshake was a little harder than firm, which was fine because I was putting a little bit more muscle than was entirely necessary into it as well. "And it's such a handsome face, too," I quipped. "Lucky you."

He gave a little laugh, dropping his hand to the side and leaning against the door jamb, all Calvin Klein model-style.

Whatever, like I couldn't rock the model look. I knew I was hot and I probably looked better in my underwear.

I shook my head, wondering where the hell that thought had come from. Random much? My brain was on the fritz. It must have been the shock of coming in the door and seeing what I saw.

Honestly, my reaction bothered me a bit. It wasn't as if I hadn't gotten a look at other guys' junk before. Not a lot of guys who frequented the gym were shy, really. And it wasn't like I didn't get the concept. I liked making my partners feel good. Why wouldn't Jasper feel the same?

Peter just chuckled, and that made me angrier. I half wondered how pretty his face would look all bruised up.

I took a step back because my thoughts were making me uncomfortable. "Well, listen, I just stopped in for... something. I don't even remember." I tried to laugh it off. "Oh, well," I shrugged. "I'm going to go meet Jake." That Jake wasn't aware of this fact yet wasn't something either of them needed to know. "You two have, er... fun."

**~Jasper~**

That weekend was bringing a lot of novel, new situations for me.

Going to sleep that night with my back pressed up against firm muscle - it was a tiny bed, after all - was nice.

Waking up to hands roaming my bare chest and lips at the back of my head was better.

Peter must have realized that my sleepy little moans meant I was awake because he kissed my ear right along the shell, making me shiver. "Do you know... I have to say, I love your arms," he murmured, tracing his fingers over the definition that was barely there. "It's nice to find a geek with arm muscles - a definite bonus."

I snorted. "Those aren't anything. It's like Rhode Island compared to your Texas," I rumbled, still half asleep.

"They're nice," Peter insisted, squeezing my arm. His hand slipped around to my chest, brushing my nipples - which I was sure he did on purpose. "And this is nice, too."

My breath was getting all stuttery. "Emmett's been helping me work out." I stiffened under Peter's touch, my eyes flying open. "Emmett!"

"He's not here," Peter whispered, and sure enough, though I couldn't see clearly without my glasses, I recognized that there was no Emmett-shaped lump in the bed across the room. "He never came home last night."

I frowned because that was weird. Even when he was out with Jake or Rosalie, he typically ended up at home eventually. I blinked, taking in the darkness of the room. Well, it wasn't morning yet. He still had time to stumble in, I guessed.

And anyway, I was quickly distracted from that line of thought when Peter moved his hands lower still, brushing his fingers over my stomach. I shivered again and shifted. I was suddenly aware of his body against mine, most particularly, his cock poking at me through the material of both our pajama bottom pants.

It made me nervous.

It turned me on.

Maybe it was an inappropriate observation under the circumstances, but though the heat that made my blood feel scalding hot beneath my skin was nothing but a mature emotion, I also felt as curious as a little kid. My nerves had eased quite a bit with all that Peter and I had been through together the evening before, and I was more at ease. Peter was so patient, letting me touch him as slow or aggressively as I pleased.

It took some maneuvering - seriously, the bed was tiny - but I managed to roll over so I was facing him. I really did like kissing him, and I loved how intensely erotic it felt to feel his length up against mine, even though we were still clothed.

Better than nice.

More than just the physical pleasure though, it was nice to feel so right about what I was doing. Going against the norm, the standard - what everyone naturally assumed was going to happen - was confusing to say the least. Who knew? Maybe I thought I might be attracted to guys, but could I actually be with one?

But the more I touched Peter - his very male body with his stubble covered chin, his muscular build that was bigger, physically stronger than any female I'd known, and, of course, his pretty cock - and the more he touched me, the better I felt. I mean, beyond it just feeling good, it was like all my perspectives realigning, clicking snugly into place.

There was no doubt about it - I  _liked_ guys.

One of the mysteries of the universe solved.

Feeling so sure of myself - in this one way at least - made me bold. I shifted on the bed until Peter was pinned under me. This was nice too - how our bodies were roughly the same size. My body would have completely engulfed Alice, for instance, and that wasn't what I wanted.

I thrust my hips against his, seeking that pleasurable slip, slide, and pressure - the stimulation of nerve endings I'd thought I'd been well acquainted with since I began the life-long relationship with my right hand as a teenager. It was so much better when it was him touching me, or his heat against mine. Even my moans were different when they were smothered against his lips. What a sweet vibration that was.

Peter kicked the blankets away so he could maneuver better, hooking his leg over mine, and even that was an amazing feeling. All my life, I'd heard how nice it was to kiss girls, to have them wriggling against you with their silky soft skin. Those guys didn't know what they were missing. Give me hairy legs and thick calves any day.

There was a roughness to his hands as he skimmed his palms over my shoulders, splaying his fingers wide across my back. I shivered as he kneaded the skin along my sides, his hands slipping down, slipping into my pants to cup my ass.

And then I broke our kiss with a gasp when he pressed the pad of one finger against my entrance. I pulled back so fast I fell right out of bed, landing on my ass on the floor, looking up at him all startled.

He tried not to, but how could he help but laugh? I must have looked like such an idiot, my mouth gaping open in surprise. Peter started chortling so hard, he had to roll over, smothering his face in the pillow just to keep the noise down. Even though he couldn't see me, I scowled at him anyway.

Rolling over onto his side again, Peter looked at me, and even in the darkness of the room in the breaking light of dawn, I could see the mirth in his eyes. He extended a hand toward me. "Come on back here, sugar. I promise I'll be good."

"You weren't bad," I grumbled, feeling foolish now. "I just..."

"There's no need to explain," he murmured, pulling me back against him. "If you're uncomfortable -"

"It wasn't discomfort," I interrupted. I really did enjoy this about Peter. Rather than make me feel like an idiot, the way he opened his arms to me made me feel at ease enough to cuddle up and talk about this even though we were both still hard and flushed. That was antithesis of discomfort. "It was good. I mean. I was just shocked because... yeah, it was like a lightning bolt down my spine."

"That's a good thing, right?" Peter asked.

I nodded and shyly kissed the underside of his chin. "It's good. Intense, but good."

He ran the back of his hand down my cheek, adding the warm and fuzzies to what I was already feeling. My desire for him, my cheeks that were flushed with a low level of embarrassment, and now this warmth? I was discovering that being with someone physically was all levels of heat.

Peter smiled, his eyes mischievous. "I guess you didn't experiment much as a kid then, huh?"

I snorted and rolled my eyes, rolling back on top of him. "I was terrified, if you want to know the truth."

"Terrified?"

"Come on. Any time you hear a story about some guy sticking something up his ass, it gets stuck there."

Peter laughed, and I loved the way his body moved underneath mine as he did. He traced the outline of my lips with the pad of his finger. "Well, here's my advice. Don't stick hamsters, light bulbs, or candles up there."

"Mmm," I hummed my acknowledgement, opening my mouth slightly, taking in his finger and sucking on it gently. I didn't have a clue what the hell I was doing, but it seemed to be what he wanted. It seemed natural enough.

He shifted underneath me, spreading his legs wider so I sunk down against him. With the hand that didn't have a finger in my mouth, he started to stroke my back again.

"You see," he began as he took his finger from my mouth and relocated it to my entrance. I jumped a little this time, but his hand against my back kept me in place. "The reason this is so nice is that there are so many nerve endings back here," he spoke in an even, almost rhythmic tone as his finger circled my little hole. He slipped in, just a bit, and back out.

And God, how right he was. My shoulders arched up even as my lower body pressed harder against him. Mewling. He was making me mewl, is what he was doing. It was all so new, the intensity was more than I knew what to do with. I was helpless to do anything but ride the wave, letting these sensations rock my body.

He knew what he was doing - he knew exactly. He started to work his finger in and out of me even as he rocked his hips, thrusting against me.

Yeah, once again, I was screwed as far as staying power went. He had me on the verge of orgasm in the space of a schoolboy's wink.

Well, fuck. That was a whole lot of nerve endings all at once, between my cock and my ass. I had no idea - purely none.

And since I was all sticky, and he was still hard, when I was able to move again, I grabbed him and dragged him into the shower - thank God we weren't in the communal showers anymore. I pressed him up against the tile and jerked him off under the hot spray.

Afterward, we climbed back into my little bed in only our towels - I was kinda glad again that Emmett was acting so weird - and I sighed, feeling really content. Peter smelled like Irish Spring soap and man. It was... yeah. Good.

Sleepy after all that, I settled with my head on his shoulder. "You're such a nice guy, Peter," I muttered. "Thank you for doing this for me."

He laughed. "Oh, honey. You make it sound like I'm doing this just out of the goodness of my heart."

That caught me off guard, and I woke up a bit, lifting my head to look at him. "Well, aren't you?"

He pursed his lips long enough to make me feel awkward. The last thing I wanted to do was lead someone on. I'd thought -

"Whoa. Hey. Come back here. Settle," he said, his hands firm on my shoulders, keeping me cuddled up against him. I hadn't realized I'd started to pull away.

He chuckled again. "Let me be clear. I already told you, I know what this is for you. I'm safe, and that's good. I want to be your safety while you figure some things out."

I relaxed against him again. Safety meant that he wasn't going to take what we were doing out of context.

"That being said," he continued, "you  _are_ a someday kind of guy."

"Someday?" I echoed.

"As in... Now isn't our time. You're where you're at with your life, your journey. My life is in an entirely different place. If.  _If_ ," he leaned heavily on the word, "we were to try something right now, our odds would be slim to none, and I'm smart enough to realize that."

He smiled and stroked my cheek the way he had earlier, making me feel once again warm and fuzzy inside. "But you never know what the future holds," he said quietly. "You never know who you'll be tomorrow. So someday, if our time comes... well, all's the better for me."

I was quiet as I thought about that. He was right in a lot of ways. My head was not in a relationship space. There was so much I still had to work out, so much lingering on my shoulders. Not even thinking about the whole liking guys thing, I wasn't stupid enough to believe that everything with Lucy hadn't left its mark. There was a lot I had to deal with before I thought about twining my life with someone else's.

But... someday?

Well, I could get behind someday. It wasn't a promise. Maybe it would happen, maybe it wouldn't.

"Hey," Peter murmured, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"What are the odds you can scare up a car today?"

I tilted my head, looking at him. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, as much as I'd love to spend the entire day in bed with you," he waggled his eyebrows, making me blush, "it does seem a little silly to come halfway across the country and not see anything."

"You want to go to Seattle?" I asked, feeling like a bad host.

"They have stuff in Seattle?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"That's what they tell me. It's an hour away, but I've only been there a couple times myself," I said thoughtfully.

Peter rolled his eyes so hard they near about fell out of his head. "You have essentially lived here for over a year and you haven't explored?"

I shrugged.

He shook his head and looked at me curiously. "What would you say if I wanted to hold your hand and kiss you at the top of the Space Needle?"

It took me a minute to figure out why he was asking. Right. The Space Needle was a public place. I'd noticed - and appreciated - that he kept his distance when we were walking around campus the day before.

I grinned at him with more bravado than I actually felt. Nothing like diving into the deep end of the pool. "I'd say, let's go ask Alice if we can borrow her car because that's one request I can definitely grant."

**~0~**

We had a good day that day. We traipsed around Seattle, holding hands, and while I was hyper aware of the people who stared - and glared - it also wasn't bad.

And yes, kissing Peter at the top of the Space Needle ranked among my top favorite moments of life so far.

When we got home, I didn't think much about Emmett not being there - again. I was too busy with Peter, making out, more concerned with getting to taste him one more time or have his lips wrapped around my cock again. He was flying out the following afternoon.

But when I woke up in the middle of the night and looked over, seeing that Emmett's bed was again empty, I wasn't even annoyed; I was concerned.

Was something really wrong?

I unwound myself from Peter's grip, fumbling for my phone and my glasses. I was already dialing when I slipped out of the room.

Startled, I almost dropped the phone.

Emmett was home after all. He was sitting on the couch, staring off into space, looking like the subject of a country song. I mean, the boy was as forlorn looking as a droopy-jowled dog.

"Emmett?" I asked, setting my phone down. He didn't answer right away. I noticed he was kind of swaying and frowned. "Emmett?"

He turned to me then and smiled. At least, he tried to smile. His dimples were there, but the expression on his face was twisted somehow. It made my heart hurt. "Hey!" he said in his booming voice.

"What are you doing out here? It's really late. You should be in bed," I muttered, knowing I sounded like his mother but... Well, I was concerned. There was something so off about him.

"I dunno," he admitted. "I didn't wanna..." He swung his hand in a sloppy circle.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, scrutinizing him.

"Uh... Yeah. Maybe," he muttered almost conversationally.

I'd seen Emmett drunk. He was a happy drunk. He was a happy person in general, I guess, but he was not happy now. "Did something happen, Em? With Rose? Or..."

He laughed, and that too sounded twisted. "Oh, man. Rose." He took a deep breath and looked at me, attempting another smile. "No, nothin' happened. Jus' had too many drinks with Jake is all."

Not knowing what else to do, I sat next to him. "Okay... So what are you doing out here?" I asked again. He didn't answer. "Emmett... if this is about Peter..."

"No!" he protested loudly. He giggled, the sound somewhat maniacal, and surprised the hell out of me by laying his head on my shoulder.

"Dude, I don't know what the fuck... I mean. He's good to you, I think. And thas' good because if someone messes with ma boy, I'd have to... ya know. Crack some skulls." He rolled his head so he was staring up at me, and he looked so childlike and lost right then it made my heart twist. "I'd do it, y'know," he muttered. "If some fucker hurt you. I'd bust his face in."

I didn't know whether I should laugh or what. I mean... I didn't doubt Emmett's loyalty at all, but this was weird, even for him. Especially for him. "I... I know, Em," I finally stammered, patting his head.

He had such soft curls.

He sighed, his breath hot on my shoulder, and turned his head a little. "I'm really tired," he mumbled, barely intelligible.

"Well... you should get in bed then," I suggested lightly.

"Okay. Yeah," he said but didn't move.

Wrapping an arm around him, I stood, trying to pull him up with me. He swayed a bit but let me support him, and we walked to the room together.

Just before we got in the door he leaned forward, pressing me up against the door jamb. For a minute, the air around us seemed to crackle. He looked down at me, his eyes reflecting some emotion I couldn't decipher. for some reason, all I could think about was when he'd kissed me last year.

He'd been drunk then, too.

He raised his hand, and I think he meant to cup my cheek, but he just ended up kind of pawing it. He closed his eyes then, giving a little groan as he lurched, stumbling toward his bed.

I shook off the heaviness of the moment, my mind feeling kind of muddled, and kept my arm around him as I helped him under his covers.

"Night, Jazz," he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Night, Em," I mumbled back.

For a long minute after he drifted straight to sleep, I stood in the center of the room, looking back and forth between my roommate and Peter in my bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks to barburella and jadedandboring! Much love.
> 
> Fair warning ... angst incoming soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news: Short chapter is short
> 
> Good news: That means next chapter is long. I'm leaving on a cruise next Friday so I'm trying to get this updated at least once before then. Next chapter also sees the return of Peter! We like Peter! Yes? Yes.
> 
> Ahem. I feel inclined to warn you… the next however many chapters are probably getting progressively angstier… we're going to start at a slow simmer here.

I don't know why, but I was hella relieved when Peter left. It was kind of a shitty thing considering it was obvious how happy he made Jasper. That was the important part, right? Because it wasn't like Peter was a prick. He was really nice.

Maybe it made me a bad friend, but I was glad Peter lived all the way across the country. He was much easier to deal with when he was just a voice on the computer.

In my head, I couldn't help but compose a list of reasons it was a bad idea to get involved with someone who was a plane ride away at best. When Jasper got this wistful expression, especially when he was talking to the other guy online, I had to really try not to spout it all off.

I didn't really understand why I cared so much, why it made me feel so white hot angry.

As the beginning of October bled into the end of October, it took me a stupid long time to figure out he wasn't bumming about Peter. At least, not toward the end of the month when he got all spaced out. I should have realized what was going on when nothing I did could distract him or make him laugh.

But I was stupid and only caught on when he was up early - the time I usually got up - already dressed with his duffel bag on his bed. His voice was monotone as he told me he was going home for the weekend, that Alice was driving him to the airport.

When I realized it was his sister's birthday, I ditched class to go with them.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that I should have gone with Jasper. I shouldn't have left him at the airport like that – standing all alone in a fucking sea of families, and couples, and groups of friends – I should have gone with him. He'd been stoic, in that particular Jaspery way of his; he made it as clear as fucking day that he would be fine on his own. He just needed to get home for his folks, he said - but I knew he was wrong to go on his own.

I fucking knew it.

Last year I didn't see him before he left. Instead, I found his note on the fridge telling me to have a great weekend, but I didn't. I had a shit time. I knew going home to be there for his parents on his sister's birthday would be hard on Jasper. Beyond hard. It made me think about my brother and how every birthday since his diagnosis had bordered on macabre. I didn't blame Mom and Dad. Fuck no, they just tried to cram so much into each birthday as if it actually were Edward's last.

Back when Edward was still really sick, I tried to imagine what his birthday would be like when he was gone. The thought still made me sick to my stomach. Still, I'd like to think that Mom, Dad, and I would have honored his memory as happily as we knew how.

But when Jasper went home, he didn't even get to celebrate his sister's life. Instead, he got to go home and face the guilt of surviving.

It took weeks,  _fucking weeks_ , for him to get back to normal last year. He came home abso-fucking-lutely grey, and I didn't see my Jasper again until he worked through it on his own. I tried to talk to him so many times, and that shit doesn't come easy to me, but he'd just smile that small, tight smile – the one that didn't match what I saw in his eyes – and tell me he was cool. But he wasn't cool. Far fucking from it.

I'd thought about what life would be like without Edward. How could I not? The threat hung over us for a long time, and it sucked hard. Just the _thought_ of it sucked so much more than I could ever find words for, but the way Jasper took on his parents fucking pain too, as well as his own, was wrong. So wrong. If something had happened to Edward... if he'd died, I just didn't think Mom and Dad would treat me the way Jasper's parents treated him. It was too much for one person to carry alone, and the more I thought about it, the more I knew I should have gone with him.

I had such a bone-deep feeling of dread that I blew Rose off and booked a flight. She lost her shit in my voicemail later, but it was too late. I was already in the air, flying out to Jasper.

When I landed, turning on my phone to increasingly irate texts and messages, I called Rose. She was pissed. I listened to her enumerate the reasons for a few minutes, because though I still felt I'd made the right call, it did suck that I ditched her. She was pissed that I missed all the gaps she left in her talking to tell her she was great, and she was doubly pissed when she found out Jasper was away. She lost her fucking shit that I hadn't told her, and for a minute I was confused. I wondered what had happened to make her suddenly seem to care as much as me about how Jasper was holding up.

And that was the thing a lot of people didn't get about Rose. Yeah, there was a lot that was shallow about her - looks mattered, that kind of stuff. But beyond that, she didn't let a lot of people into her inner circle. For such a gorgeous girl, she could count her true friends on one hand. It was an exclusive list, but once you made it, well... that girl would fight to the death to protect you if need be.

She'd noticed, she said, that I could shake off nearly everything. There wasn't a lot that left me incapable of smiling or joking. Edward was one of my triggers, she said, Jasper was the other. She'd noticed that when my roommate was unhappy, I was unhappy, and that concerned her.

When she put it that way, I felt defensive even though she wasn't accusing me of anything.

How could I not be protective of Jasper? Kid didn't have anyone else looking out for him. If I didn't do it, who would?

I kind of ruminated on that on the cab ride to Jasper's parents' house. I knew Jasper was important to me, but Edward important?

I didn't have much time to dwell. It occurred to me only after I was already standing outside the place that I hadn't told Jasper I was coming. Really, I had no idea how I was going to be received.

Hey, thinking things out was just not my forte, okay?

At a lost for what to do, I texted Jasper.

_**So, dude, I'm kind of right outside your door.** _

I watched the indicator, so I knew that my message had been delivered and then read.

**~Jasper~**

Lucy's birthday had to be one of my least favorite days of the year, even when she was alive.

When she was alive, we would do whatever she wanted, but there was so little she was capable of. Birthdays were frustrating. Maybe she wanted to go to the zoo, but she was always too tired to get through most of the day. She was too weak for anything physically demanding.

And there was always this heaviness hanging over us. Lucy had never had good odds. Oh, yeah, I'd say for Momma and Dad - I'd talk like she was for sure going to beat it, but I knew.

Lucy knew, too, I think.

Since she'd died, her birthday was just unbearable. I don't think Momma and Dad could stand to not think about her - which was fine, except they kept imagining the life she could have had. It was weird. She'd have been nine this year, so we were celebrating her birthday as a nine-year-old girl might have celebrated it.

And even that would have been fine. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but it was just like the funeral: no one wanted to be at a funeral, but it had to be done. But just like last year, Momma would see the other kids, the other little girls who were happy and healthy, and it would be hard. Then Dad would watch all the dads with their daughters, and...

What was the point?

I felt guilty, so guilty, because the last couple weeks I'd been just dreading coming home. Somewhere along the line, it'd begun to feel like Washington was really my home. Things were normal there. People smiled. It felt like life could go on, like maybe there were things still left to celebrate and good times to be had. I wanted to go back home to Emmett's raucous laughter.

I was sitting at the table while my parents went through pictures of Lucy on her birthday. I watched her go from a chubby, happy baby to the sickly little thing she was before she died.

It was like watching her disease eat her away all over again.

While I did my best to insert little asides - "Remember, Ma? She was so happy that day." - I was really thinking about how much I wanted to be back at school. Or, since it was the weekend, maybe I would let Emmett actually convince me to go outside for once. It was raining in Washington this weekend. That probably wouldn't stop him.

Just as I was thinking about Emmett playing football in the rain - and the way his shirt clung to his muscles when it was wet - my phone vibrated against my leg. Mom frowned, but I peeked anyway and jolted with shock at the message I read.

What the hell was Emmett doing here?

I felt pulled in all kinds of different directions at once. My gut instinct was relief. If anyone knew how to lighten an atmosphere, it was Emmett. Right on the heels of that, though, was an edge of panic. As it was, my parents were very miffed when I told them I'd be going out later tonight with Peter.

_Ah, hell. Peter!_

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling trapped and guilty, though I didn't know why, mixed with a bit of elation.

None of those feelings matched the somber atmosphere in my house. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though. Anything had to be better than the oppressive grief that seemed to cling to my skin, permeating my every sense. Just second before, I felt like I couldn't even breathe through all of that - filling my lungs was a struggle. Even the confusion and the threat of my parents' irritation had to be a respite from that.

"I, uh... gotta see to something outside," I said, pushing back from the table.

Momma frowned. "What's outside, sugar?"

"I just gotta see to something, that's all," I muttered.

Dad eyed me suspiciously. "You snuck off during breakfast outside."

I frowned. I'd taken a call from Peter that I didn't want them to overhear.

"Boy, if you've picked up smoking, after what your sister-"

"No!" I said loudly. "I would never..." I wanted to be angry, but I saw the pain in both their eyes. Yeah. Lucy hadn't died of lung cancer, but my parents, they knew every type of cancer that could maybe possibly steal their only remaining child. I couldn't rightly blame them for being paranoid.

So I blew out a breath and tried again, making my voice calmer. "I'm not smoking," I said firmly. "It's just, I think my roommate is outside."

"Oh, Jasper," Dad said, sounding tired.

"What's Emmett doing here?" Momma asked, and if I wasn't so surprised to see something other than tears in her eyes, I'd have felt really guilty I'd irked her.

"I don't know. He just texted me. That's why I need to go outside and find out," I said as patiently as I was able. "I'll be right back."

"This is family time," Momma continued.

"I know that," I answered over my shoulder, going outside to Emmett.

When I opened the door, I stared. My head was kind of stuck in this surreal spot. I found I was damn glad to see my roommate but damn. I didn't know if I wanted him here. My parents aside, I didn't know if I liked mixing my life with him - my good life - with what I had back here.

So I guess that was why I maybe sounded rougher than I meant to when I said, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Emmett didn't even flinch. Instead, he just bobbed his head as if I'd greeted him good and proper like Momma taught me. "Sorry for just showing up," he said in that voice that didn't sound sorry at all. "I just figured if I asked you, you'd say you were fine and didn't need the company."

"I am fine," I said to the ground.

Emmett didn't call my on my lie. Instead, he just nodded again. "Right. I figured. Then I said to myself, 'Emmett, my good looking man, you've never seen Texas. Why not now?'"

I almost smiled. Almost. "Now is not a great time to play tour guide," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my head anxiously.

"Who needs a tour guide? This is Texas, right?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well. I see it. Scratch that one off the bucket list."

Bowing my head, I almost laughed again but sobered quickly.

It felt wrong to laugh here.

"Listen, Emmett. I know you came a long way, but we've got a lot of things going on today," I tried.

"Of course. Lucy's birthday." He clapped his hands together. "So! How does this shindig go down?"

"Um. We're going to the cemetery first. Then CiCi's Pizza and bowling."

"Bowling?"

I grimaced, knowing how weird this all sounded. "Last year, we went to one of those fancy tea places."

Emmett's eyebrows shot up. I kind of slumped a bit. That had been the worst. There we were, sipping our tea, pretending to eat those tiny little sandwiches, missing Lucy while little girls giggled all around us, having the time of their young lives.

"Well," Emmett said with a shrug. "Bowling is fun. Wanna bet I'll kick your ass?"

I looked at him, and I knew I was gaping like an asshole - which I knew was an unfortunate comparison. But, damn, it took me a minute to understand what he was saying. "You... you want to come with us?"

His expression, while teasing, kind of indicated he thought I was a little bit of an idiot. "Uh, yeah. What do you think I'm doing here? And bonus! Isn't CiCi's pizza that place you told me that serves all you can eat pizza? I'm so there."

For a second, I felt like yelling at him. How dare he intrude on this time? Momma and Dad... they would want things to be concentrating on Lucy. Who could concentrate on Lucy when Emmett was so loud and boisterous and… always happy?

But before I could figure out what to say, he was striding into the house to talk to my parents.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So next chapter… Lucy's bday, a night with Peter (Hmmm how's Em gonna handle being the third wheel?), and … ya know… stuff.
> 
> Thanks so much to barburella and Shug! Who I conned into betaing even though she doesn't so much do the slash.
> 
> And thank you to y'all. Really. Your reaction to this story warms my heart.


	10. Chapter 10

Emmett wasted no time at all twisting my parents up. At first they were sputtering that this was a time for the family, but it was almost like he wouldn't let them say no - which was weird. Emmett wasn't normally so pushy, and he knew damn well that they were hurting. He had to know.

But he made an interesting argument.

By my parents own logic, we were celebrating as Lucy might have celebrated had she lived. Emmett pointed out that kids her age often had parties for their classes. He wasn't wrong. The bowling birthday I had - I did take the majority of my class.

"I know I don't fit the age range technically, but my mom tells me I'm the biggest little kid in the world. So I can stand for them - all her friends," Emmett said, his voice gentle enough that it wasn't insulting.

"You realize we're going to the cemetery first?" my dad said dubiously.

Emmett nodded. "I'm not trying to be a pain in the neck." His voice and his eyes were utterly sincere. "I almost lost my brother like this, so I understand. Believe me, I do. And I want to be here - for Jasper, but for all of you, if you'll let me."

And how could Momma and Dad argue about that?

That was how I ended up spending most of my dead sister's birthday with my best friend.

I had to admit, I was hella nervous about the whole thing, and more than a little pissed off. I knew Momma and Dad were uncomfortable, and they shouldn't have had to put up with that kind of shit today of all days. So I ignored him on the car ride over. I kept on imagining his big, loud voice in the quiet of the cemetery. There was going to be tension, and Emmett was prone to joking when things got tense.

This wasn't a joking matter.

But I should have given him a little credit.

When we stopped for flowers, he asked Momma if Lucy had a favorite animal. I wanted to punch him in the face - my parents and I played this silent game where we couldn't remember, it was too painful to remember, but we couldn't forget Lucy. And Momma, at first she looked so pained... but then she answered in such a small voice I couldn't hardly hear her.

"Dogs. She loved that blue dog from that kid's show," she whispered.

"Blue's Clues?" Emmett smiled - it was such a gentle smile. "Yeah, the girl had good taste. I loved that show. I watched it even when I was all grown up."

"We had a little dog for a while," Momma said. "She tried to dye him blue with food coloring. Poor little thing."

She was crying, but she had the tiniest little smile.

_Well, cut my legs and call me shorty._

Emmett didn't press it. Instead, he gathered up the bouquet with the brightest colored flowers in the entire shop and a blue furred stuffed dog to go with it.

At the cemetery, he set down his stuff and gave us some space, taking the old flowers around Lucy's grave to the furthest possible trashcan to give us time to hold hands and cry.

Well, Momma and Dad cried together. I just kept my arms around them and tried to ignore the lump in my throat and the way my eyes stung.

Emmett came back and settled cross-legged, facing all of us.

He looked at me first. "What's your favorite memory of her?"

I just blinked at him, set on stupid, and again, I wanted to punch him because if I thought of the good times, I was definitely going to cry and beyond not wanting him to see that, I didn't want my parents to have to comfort me.

When I didn't answer, he looked to my father and asked the same question.

Dad was annoyed, I could tell, but he blew out a long, slow breath and answered.

"She used to put her ear on my stomach and giggle at the noises it made," he said softly. "And then she would have whole conversations with it - my stomach."

I didn't know until right that second that Emmett was capable of laughing any way other than boisterously. His laugh then was more of a respectful chuffle... an amazingly cemetery appropriate sound.

He got them talking, telling little stories.

Last year, Momma had been a sobbing mess by the time we left. Oh, she was still splotchy-faced and red eyed, but there was a lightness there, too. I was mystified.

At CiCi's Pizza, Emmett paid for all of us including a child's ticket. He asked us what Lucy's favorite drink was, her favorite pizza, even what she would have gotten for desert. He set a place for her at our table.

"I think sailors used to do this for fallen crew members," he explained. "I don't know, I heard it somewhere. You raise your glass and toast to the people you miss the most."

He raised his glass.

We toasted.

Then we got on to bowling which, really, I was dreading the most. Like we were gonna be in the mood to play any more than we'd been in the mood to sip tea and eat sandwiches and watch other little girls pretend they were princesses.

Emmett elbowed me in the side. "Bet you can't hit a strike."

I looked at him.

"An honest strike, too. None of this spare shit."

I blinked hard.

Seriously, he was going to go all fun and games on me? My parents didn't like cursing. What the hell -

"Come on, let's put a friendly wager on it. Whoever gets the most strikes. Loser... I don't know. Does the winner a favor, no matter what the favor is. Can't say no."

"Fuck off," I said under my breath, low enough so Mom and Dad didn't hear.

Emmett just grinned.

Asshole thought this was a game.

He didn't say anything else, just took his bright green ball and threw it. He leapt into the air when he saw it had completely annihilated all the pins. "Wooooo! Strike! Yes!"

He was jumping up and down. I stared at him, completely just...

Aghast.

"Beat that," he said to me. "I dare you."

The only thing that kept me from losing my shit right then and there was because when I looked back at Momma and Dad, they were glaring. I couldn't make it worse on them by shoving my stupid ass roommate around. So I picked up my ball and threw it with a limp wrist.

"Dude. That was pathetic!" Emmett crowed. "Go ahead, Mr. Whitlock. I've gotta teach your kid a thing or two about how to handle a ball."

He grabbed me by the wrist, taking me off to the side. "Dude," I hissed at him when I could be sure my parents couldn't hear. "What the fuck are you doing?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Teaching you to bowl, obviously. Now look. You gotta cup the ball like so -"

I yanked my hand away from him. The bowling ball dropped on my toe. "Son of a..." I bit my lip.

"Well, don't let it go next time," Emmett said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I glared at him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because that little girl throw was embarrassing."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about!"

People were staring, including my parents. Momma was looking over with worried, irritated eyes.

"Look," Emmett tried again. "It's all about follow through - it's always about follow through." He demonstrated his throw. "What you wanna do is -"

"Emmett. I know how to bowl, okay?"

His wide grin was back. His eyes had the fucking nerve to do that twinkle thing, and Jesus fucking Christ... his dimples were motherfucking adorable.

And I wanted to hit him.

"So prove it. Whoever gets the most strikes gets to order the loser around for a day. A day!"

"Emmett? It's your turn," Momma called.

I grabbed my ball from his hands, pissed as hell and wishing that Lucy was into boxing so I could bust the shit out of Emmett's face. I marched to the aisle like a soldier to battle and flung the ball out.

The resounding crack of the bowling ball hitting the pins was loud and unbelievably satisfying to my ear.

I loved that sound so much, I didn't even register Emmett's whooping behind me. I picked up my ball, and as soon as the pins reset, I took my turn.

Strike.

The sound of the ball scattering pins into the metal bin... It did something for me.

And I took the next seven turns, barely able to wait until the pins reset before I was flinging the ball down the aisle.

When I was done, I was breathing hard, staring down at the end of the aisle, not exactly sure what had just happened. I turned around slowly, finding my parents staring at me and Emmett grinning.

"I win, asshole," I said to him.

He threw back his head and laughed - his full bodied laugh.

"Double or nothing," he declared.

**~Emmett~**

Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock were not pleased with me. At. All.

Well, not for nothing because, again, losing a kid sucked, but fuck them anyway.

I gave them the majority of the day. I honored their daughter. I played their macabre, really rather fucked up game, and I watched Jasper get more and more sallow as the day went on.

He spent every minute of the day dreading the next minute, watching me to make sure I didn't upset them, watching them to make sure they weren't upset, taking in this fucking oppressive, gray atmosphere onto his own shoulders so they wouldn't have to hold it.

Yeah, again. Fuck. That.

They lost their daughter. It sucked. Their son was still alive and hurting in front of them, and he didn't understand he didn't need their permission to smile again.

Bowling wasn't nearly as aggressive as I wished it would be, but I worked with what I had. It took some prodding, but Jasper got into it eventually. After he had his little eight strike bowling master moment, we restarted the game for real. I mean, for really real. His parents sat there watching us, all pissed off at me for ruining their constant state of mourning, and Jasper and I had ourselves a real competition.

Kid was a fantastic bowler. But in the end, I won. He owed me about a day's worth of favors.

Fantastic.

He was quiet on the ride home, knowing he'd upset his parents, but there was something lighter about him. This morning, tension was practically rolling off his skin. It made me want to tear my hair out, it was so bad. Now he just looked a little sad and nervous. Sad was inevitable - of course he was gonna miss his sister. Nervous was... understandable. Didn't matter how old you got, knowing your parents were probably going to yell at you at some point was never fun.

I had the strangest urge to hold his hand. How weird was that? I saw his fingers tap, tap, tapping against the middle seat between us and I just wanted to give him a squeeze.

Strange. But whatever. I was protective of him. Sue me. Someone should have been.

Which brought me back to my original point - his parents could fuck right off if they were so pissed. Jasper deserved at least the option to be happy on a day like today. I mean, it was cliche, but did they really think that Lucy would have wanted them to mope, mope, mope all the time?

Whatever.

Shit hit the fan when we got home. I guess Mrs. Whitlock just couldn't hold it in anymore. She started doing that passive aggressive thing, saying shit that didn't sound mad until it got to a boiling point.

"If you didn't want to celebrate your sister with us, Jasper, you could have just said so," she snapped. "At least saved us the money for the ticket instead of bringing all your friends over when they aren't wanted."

"Ah, all respect, ma'am," I said as politely as I could. "I invited myself. It's really not his fault." I was sure she didn't realize how much it said about how I respected a woman in her position that I paused for a second, thinking over what I was about to say instead of it coming flying out of my mouth. "I was just trying to be there for Jasper. Maybe it was the wrong way to go about that..."

"This is a time for our family. It's bad enough that Jasper is taking off tonight," she said, obviously trying not to cry.

That kind of threw me a bit. "You're taking off tonight?" I asked Jasper.

He looked a little sick. "I don't... have to," he hedged, glancing at his parents.

"No. Go. It's obvious you need space, and that's fine. It's better if you're out there instead of rubbing it in your mother's face on today of all days," his father said hotly.

Taking a hint, Jasper grabbed the proffered car keys from his father and got out of there. I followed him, of course.

"So, what's going on tonight?"

"Oh, will you fuck off already?" Jasper yelled, waving his hand at me furiously. "Really, what the hell are you doing here, man?"

"What are  _you_ doing here?"

"What?"

"What are you doing here?" I repeated patiently.

"That is a really fucking stupid question," he muttered, pulling his hair back as he started to pace on the lawn.

"Are you going to tell me you came here to celebrate your sister's life?" I shook my head. "You came here for your parents. And that's just fine. I get it, obviously. But who came here for you?"

He looked up, blinking his big brown eyes at me. "What about me?"

"Your parents were mostly okay with me being here until I got a little rowdy at the bowling alley. Well, news flash, sports fans, that's what you're supposed to do at a bowling alley. What you need -"

"What do you know about what I need?" Jasper bellowed. "You think I needed this?"

"You think I don't get it, Jasper? You know I do. You know I've had my share of celebrating birthdays where all you can think about is death." I laughed because laughing was the only way I knew how to deal with the tightness in my chest as I remembered. "Jesus fucking Christ, it was sick, okay? On Edward's birthday, Mom and Dad had us going, going, going all day long. We had so much fun."

Yeah. Fun it wasn't, and my inflection on that word spoke volumes. I couldn't keep the venom out of my voice.

"And the whole fucking time while we were pretending to smile and laugh and have fun, we were all thinking about death. Edward was right there in front of us, and all I could feel was this great, big void he was going to leave when he went.

"And I know," I rushed ahead when he opened his mouth. "It's not the same thing. It really isn't. Edward is alive and Lucy never will be again. But that's the point. Lucy is dead. She's not suffering anymore. She's not hurting. What in the ever loving fuck is it going to prove for you to put yourself through this shit year after year in her honor?"

Jasper growled, pacing furiously at this point. "You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing here, besides telling me how I need to mourn my sister?"

Jesus Christ. I knew he wasn't an idiot. Why did he have to make me spell it out like this? "You're here for your parents, I'm here for you, you jackass."

"You're here for what? To annoy the shit out of me?"

"Well, what's better, honestly? Being annoyed or feeling the way you felt last year, and probably the year before that?"

He stood ramrod straight, and I thought he was going to hit me for a second. I would have been okay with that. Anything to keep him from going into zombie mode again.

But instead, his shoulders slumped. "It felt... good. Better, anyway. It felt... almost normal," he admitted quietly. "But my parents -"

"Your parents will survive. You're so considerate of their feelings, and that's not a bad thing. But they need to be considerate of your feelings, too. All you did today play a damn game, had a little fun on your sister's birthday."

I let that hang between us for a few seconds before I spoke again. "Now are you going to tell me what your mom meant about you having somewhere to be tonight?"

Jasper opened his mouth, but no sound came out at first. Then he bent over at the waist, laughing so hard he had to brace himself with his hands against his knees.

I had no idea what the hell was so funny, but it was a nice sound - his laughter.

"I'm uh..." Jasper managed between titters. "I'm going to pick up Peter in a little bit here."

Well, that was about the last thing I expected to hear. "Peter?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yeah. He wanted to come spend the night with me. I mean!" he stumbled, his face flushing a bright red. "I mean, he wanted to go out tonight. With me."

"Oh," I said after a minute. "Well, hey, whatever. Don't let me get in the way, man. I'll figure out a way to occupy my time."

Jasper shoved his glasses up so he could rub his eyes. "No. No, that's fine. We weren't gonna... do anything," he said sheepishly. "He knew today was going to be hard, and he convinced me to go out tonight. That's all. He's flying right back out to Georgia in the morning."

"Well... that was nice of him," I hedged, wondering why it felt like biting into a lemon to compliment Peter.

"Yeah. You're both pains in the ass," Jasper muttered, letting his glasses slip back in place. I thought he sounded a little lighter though, so there was that. He sighed. "Come on. We might as well head out since you've gotten me banned from my house."

**~0~**

It was really starting to bug me how... irritated I was with Peter.

I mean, even I had to admit he was a pretty cool guy. He was nice, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, and a whole bunch of other lame sayings. And objectively speaking, he was a good looking guy.

As guys went, I could see he was a catch.

And I didn't know why that pissed me off so damn much.

It was bugging me that I might have been more homophobic than I wanted to admit. I didn't think I had a problem, but what else could explain why I felt like mimicking the way he walked and talked? It took a hell of a lot of self control for me not to mock him.

Peter had a flamboyant edge.

But why should the way a guy walked and talked bother me so much?

Why had it bothered me that he held Jasper's hand or gave him the occasional peck as we walked around downtown Houston? I was hyper aware of how many people stared when they did that.

It not only bothered me, but when their kisses lingered, I kind of got to thinking that PDAs were rude. Which was just stupid. I was a big fan of PDAs normally.

What the fuck was my problem, anyway?

Like I said, Peter was pretty cool. He cracked my shit up when we went to karaoke, and he sang Redneck Woman - which, by the way, had to be the worst song known to man - with all the hip sashaying and trilling you could ask for. Hilarious. He had every tight ass in the place rolling.

He kept up with me at pool. He bought us drinks - Mr. I'm-24-and-mature. He made Jasper laugh.

I didn't have a problem with anyone.

Again. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I was trying to sort that out when Jasper wandered off to the bathroom, leaving me alone with Peter. I was so disturbed by the I-might-be-a-homophobic-prick thing, I didn't even notice until Peter laughed.

"You know, just for the record... you win," he said.

"What?" What the fuck was this guy on about?

"You win," Peter repeated. "There was never any contest really, but I had hope up until now."

"You wanna fill in the blanks there, buddy?"

Peter leaned with his elbows on the table we were sitting at. He propped his head on his hands, looking contemplative. "I heard it in his voice this last week or so - how bad it was going to be for him this weekend. I heard him closing in on himself - getting further away. I couldn't sit by and let it happen." Again he laughed, looking up at me. "Do you know how hard it was to convince him to let me see him just this evening?"

He shook his head. "I thought it was better to pick up the pieces later, but you had the right idea. Get the jump on him, and don't let him break in the first place. Of course, you knew what he needed. So you have that edge."

"Edge. In. What?" I had the weirdest urge to grit my teeth.

He tilted his head, staring at me. "Oh, sugar. You're worse off than he is, aren't you?" He laughed. "It's going to be interesting to see how this plays out."

At least he was legitimately irritating me at that point. I tried to ignore him, just resting my head on my folded arms on the table.

"Just be careful," Peter said, his voice serious and soft. I turned my head to look at him. His expression matched: serious and soft. "You've both had occasion to hurt so much. That's why you're good for each other. You understand him, and he understands you." He looked me right in the eye. "But that also gives you power over each other, and you can hurt him, same as he can hurt you. So just... be careful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So there's that.
> 
> Thanks so much to jadedandboring for helping me with beta work and to barburella for… annoying the hell out of me in my docs. I love yous!
> 
> I signed up for Project Team Beta's Smut University. I'll be giving a live interview on June 30th. It's a fun time all around and some great authors are participating. Sign up here: projectteambeta smut-university /


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hokay, so I feel obligated to warn you... this is where we're beginning on the angst label of the story.

I was beginning to figure it was true what they said - that life flashes before your eyes. I guess it didn't feel that way before, but then again, watching your baby sister suffer had the effect of slowing time down to a maddening crawl.

The rest of Sophomore year went by like nothing. Alice had to give up her job at the coffee house but put in a good word not only for me but for Emmett too. We both got the job, which was cool. Working with Emmett was never boring, that was for sure.

There was one incident after we closed one night that involved a lot of soapy water and both of us ending up so soaked we had to take our shirts off to get anything done. Alice said I'd given her dream fodder for weeks with that one, but whatever.

Okay, yeah. Emmett in a wet white shirt was... nice.

Anyway.

Before I knew it, Sophomore year was done, and I was back home in Houston.

Summer wasn't bad. I went to see Peter, which was especially nice because he had his own apartment. We had a pretty good time. Nakedness and blow jobs were involved. I still wasn't ready for sex, and Peter was still hella understanding about that.

He was a good man, Peter. Sometimes, I missed him when he wasn't around.

He asked a lot about my love life, which was non existent not counting him. I was okay with that. I wasn't in any particular rush to get anywhere.

As Emmett pointed out more than once, coming out of the closet hadn't done anything to improve my anti-social tendencies.

At the end of our visit, Peter - almost nervously - started dropping another dude's name at the end of our visit. He was interested. I could tell.

It wasn't like I hadn't been expecting it. Like I said, Peter was an amazing guy: so patient and tender... and damn fine to boot. Sometimes I thought I might just be the biggest fool on the planet not to make like Beyonce said and put on a ring on it, so to speak.

Honestly, it didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would, and I wished him well.

His smile was kind of half cocked. He asked about Emmett.

What about Emmett?

Oddly, he asked if Emmett was seeing anyone.

I told him he'd been seeing this girl named Rosalie, but that may have been done 'cause I hadn't seen her around the last few weeks of school and Emmett hadn't mentioned anything about her when I talked to him on the computer.

Peter rolled his eyes so damn hard I worried for his 20/20 vision. He muttered something about the blind leading the blind and left it at that.

Other than that, the summer was mostly peaceful. Momma and Dad... well, it seemed to me like our relationship was shifting, and I wasn't real sure what to do about that. Things were changing between us, and Momma even said one day she felt like she didn't know me anymore. Funny enough, I almost told her it'd been a long time since she'd really seen me.

I didn't know what got into me. I tried to play it off and gave her lots of hugs.

Emmett got a car from his parents. We found an honest to goodness apartment - still school housing, but legitimately apartment-sized. Dad bought us an apartment sized fridge. Emmett and I had a worse time arguing about magnets for the fridge.

We ended up getting one of those mood-a-day numbers with funny options. There was a space for each of us to put our moods, and Emmett usually responded with a note about mine. Once, I put that I was constipated because the look on the little magnet's face just cracked my shit up (no pun intended). I came back from class to find a note on the fridge saying "Open" and opened the door to find a bowl full of prunes. I about died laughing.

It was nice. Between differing shifts at the coffee house, our very different class schedules, and Emmett's activities, we didn't see too much of each other, really. I almost missed the early days when we shared a single room.

Sometimes, the apartment felt like entirely too much space.

So time passed. Emmett was there for me when my parents told me not to come for Lucy's birthday, but beyond that, there wasn't too much drama in our lives.

At least... not until Thanksgiving that year.

_**~0~** _

My parents – they didn't really do Thanksgiving. Whoever had time to cook a feast that Lucy couldn't eat? And then, after Lucy died, it was hard for them to celebrate a holiday of thanks when they'd lost their daughter. The year before she died we'd all taken a vacation to another country where it was just another day. This year they'd gone off without me.

That was fine with me. I liked Emmett's family a lot. Esme and Carlisle were just as nice as could be. Edward was good people, too. Interesting to talk to when you could get him to talk. He had his moments of – let's just call it ill temper. That morning, he was a little tired and a little cranky. When Esme asked if he was okay he was testy with her.

At around eleven the door bell rang. Esme came back into the room with a teenage girl trailing after her. Pretty little thing. She was petite and brunette. Her eyes swept the room until she found Edward, and then her face broke into a beautiful smile.

That sure turned his mood around.

The brunette was introduced to us as Bella Swan, Edward's girlfriend. They were a pretty picture, all cuddled up on the couch for the rest of that morning and part of the afternoon. Emmett had such a great time razzing them, he forgave his little brother for not telling him when he fell in loooooovvvvve.

When they disappeared at around two he talked me into playing a little hide and seek. Oh, the way that Bella girl turned red when we caught them making out...it was classic.

When it was three and the food wasn't done and Emmett had run out of ways to tease his brother, he got real restless. Carlisle suggested a game of pool and us 'kids' meandered down to the basement.

When I looked back on it, I remembered the way Edward seemed to sway when it was his turn. One time he got up only to sit back down again quickly. He'd shrugged it off. "I just got up too fast."

He was setting up a shot when it happened. I was watching him. He seemed to be having trouble focusing. He kept shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his vision. Emmett was distracted, chatting with Bella who was still getting over her initial shyness with him. But I saw him. And I remembered the way my stomach kind of twisted with dread.

I thought about saying something, but I didn't want to ruin Emmett's Thanksgiving with my paranoia.

About a minute later it was a moot point. Edward stood up straight, looking like he was fighting sleep. Then his eyes rolled back into his head, and his legs crumpled out from under him.

That was when time got all warped. Emmett and Bella were calling his name. When he just lay there, unresponsive on the ground, Emmett gathered him up into his big arms. He stood up like Edward was a little child instead of a fully grown 17 year old boy. He looked more like a doll than a live kid - all pale, ashen skin and limp, loose limbs. And I was frozen for a second because I remembered the last time with Lucy. How tiny she'd looked cradled in my dad's arms as he ran with her to the car.

Emmett bounded up the stairs carrying Edward and calling for his dad.

Luckily, everything in Forks seemed to be ten minutes away, including the hospital. I drove Bella there while she gave me directions in between muttering all the things it could be instead of that... that word she couldn't make herself say.

But we both knew.

Still, I didn't say anything. Just waited with them in one of those sterile, soulless rooms with chairs that would never be comfortable and magazines that were deformed from wear. I waited and tried not to remember how many times I'd been there before - listening to the doctors and the nurses hustling and bustling around behind the closed door.

Before too long, a doctor came and retrieved Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett. Family only for now. I didn't like those family only meetings - not when the doctor had that look on his face.

Then it was just me and Bella for a little while.

I had to hand it to her, the girl was stoic. Her mouth was set in a hard, firm line, and though I could see her wipe away tears every now and again, she didn't sob or carry on like chicks in movies tend to. And hell, if she could be strong, I could be strong too.

Eventually, someone came and retrieved us. Then there was another waiting room, outside the hospital rooms.

Carlisle talked to Bella in soft, soothing tones. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to cry too, but he didn't. Not until he couldn't quite get his lips to form the word – that ugly word that had lingered on their horizon even when they'd started to hope they would never hear it.

Relapse.

Then he put his hands over his eyes, and it took him a minute to speak again. Emmett came out of Edward's room like he had a beacon. He put his arms around his father's shoulders and told Bella that Edward was asking for her while Carlisle pulled himself together. I watched Bella square her shoulders and wipe away the last of the tears so she could be strong for Edward. I watched Emmett comfort Carlisle until he could be strong for Esme. As soon as Esme exited Edward's room, Emmett was strong enough for the both of them.

And that left me wondering – who was supposed to be strong for Emmett?

Emmett told me that they were going to transfer Edward to a bigger hospital about a half hour away from our apartment. He said that I could go, I didn't need to be there. I just gave a look and said that was as likely as The Pope winning the national pimping trophy. He smiled a little, and that was enough reason for me to put up with all the horrible, horrible memories that were assaulting me.

My fucking God, I hated waiting rooms. And hospitals. And doctors. And nurses.

I fucking hated this.

But I stayed, catching glimpses of Edward looking more drawn than I'd ever seen him. His eyes barely opened. His arms covered in tubes.

Lucy was hooked to so many machines at the end, it was hard to find a place to pat her comfortingly.

I left to get food for everyone. They weren't hungry, I knew that, but they all ate what I'd put in their hands, offering small, watery smiles of thanks. I held Bella's hand without asking when they asked her to leave for whatever discussion needed to be had. I kept them in hot coffee or cool water.

It was after midnight before they were ready to move him. Bella followed his gurney all the way to the waiting ambulance. She promised that she would be there when he woke up in the morning. Edward had made her promise, Emmett told me, that she would go home and sleep. There was nothing she could do for him curled up in the waiting room of another hospital. Esme got in the ambulance with Edward and Carlisle followed in their car.

Then there was nothing left to do but go home for the night. I knew Emmett only did it because he didn't want his parents to worry about him. After all, our apartment wasn't very far away.

Still, it was a long, long drive.

It was a foreboding feeling – like the air around us was heavy and minutes from caving in. Something was about to give way.

But Emmett didn't say anything as we drove, and I figured he needed the silence after all the chaos at the hospital. He didn't turn his music on. For once I would have appreciated the heavy metal he usually pumped – the kind with too much screaming for me to enjoy typically. Screaming would have been a welcome distraction from this weight.

Eventually, we got home. The only indication Emmett gave that he even knew I was there was when he paused at the head of the car, waiting for me to catch up so we could walk to the door together. He put the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

Then, as the front door closed behind us, Emmett just froze. He stared out over our apartment, his eyes roaming the room.

I don't know what happened. Maybe it was that the room was too normal for how he felt right then. Maybe, after contemplating the journey ahead, how he would be spending days on end in a place where people bled, and wept, and lived, and died, the utter ordinariness of our little apartment was surreal. Just one second I was standing there, wondering what I was supposed to say, wondering what he needed, and the next his face was twisted in a way I hadn't ever seen it before.

Emmett didn't do angry, but right then he was made of fury. His body vibrated with it. For a second and then two, I thought he was going to swallow it down. I thought maybe, just maybe, he'd take a deep breath and my Emmett would be back – maybe not smiling, but at least not furious.

But whatever was inside him was too much to keep inside. He couldn't swallow it and hide it. It came tumbling out of him in a rage so pure it was frightening – especially from him.

He screamed. It was a guttural, wordless cry that was made of livid pain. He turned and started pummeling the wall with his closed fists. For unforgivably long I was in shock, unable to think past the sound of plaster cracking against his skin.

Then I saw the bloom of blood on the broken wall. Like when you were a kid and you'd paint with a sponge? The paint always came off in that pattern – with holes in it instead of a pure strip of color. That's what his blood looked like on the wall.

I was over to him without a second thought of the consequences. Imagine throwing yourself into a tornado – all black, black clouds and violently swirling debris. I put my arms around his broad shoulders and said his name over and over. I squeezed him, making it harder for him to draw back and punch.

His screaming sharpened and became words. "It isn't fair. He beat this. He beat it. He went through all the pain and the radiation and being too weak to even move. For what? Just to have to do it all over again? He's not even 18!" He was so angry he writhed with the injustice of it.

And I understood that kind of anger. I really did. I'd understood it since I beat the shit out of Tommy Anderson in junior high. Yeah, so the kid had called me four-eyes. A lot of people had said a lot worse and I'd never so much as looked at them in anger. But Tommy – I'd seen him a few days prior out on his lawn playing with his little sister. His sister was about the same age as Lucy. His sister shrieked with giggles, riding around on his shoulders, while my sister would be too fragile to play like that for all of her too short life. So when he gave me an excuse, I hit him and for the longest time I couldn't stop.

Emmett stopped though. He was breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling like it held all the answers for him. For once I couldn't relate. Like me, he'd watched his sibling suffer for years but our situations were different. I suppose some would say he was better off because Edward had lived where Lucy had died, but at least there was finality to her journey. Edward had gotten better and they'd all let themselves hope that he could have the things that once swayed in the balance. They'd watch him get stronger, start playing the sports he'd missed out on. They'd watched him fall in love with a great girl - imagined that he would grow up and get married.

The idea of watching it happen again - seeing Edward deteriorate and his hopeful life become more of a question than a certainty again - was unfathomable. Watching his brother suffer and knowing that it could all be in vain….

I watched helplessly as Emmett's lips started to tremble – such a little movement that I wasn't even sure it was happening at first. Then his breath started to come in rough shudders and his eyes started to water. The man that had stood straight and kept his arm around his mother's waist so she wouldn't fall, the man who had put a hand on his father's shoulder and told him to trust – that man was gone. Even all his anger slipped away, and as his shoulders hunched inward what I saw was a scared little boy in a grown man's body. I thought I knew what that expression meant, but I didn't until I saw him in that moment.

He was small, suddenly. Small and so lost. He sank to his knees, slumping forward with his head in his bloody hands, and he began to weep uncontrollably.

Before I even thought about it I had sunk down in front of him. It was pure instinct to comfort him. I ran my hands through his short curls. Almost instantly, he wrapped his arms around my back and buried his head at my neck. For a second I swayed, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to hold him. Then I just was. I let him cry as I told him over and over again that it was okay. His whole body was shaking, but my arms were wide enough to hold him and I could be strong enough for both of us.

When his tears subsided just a little he started to say he was sorry. And I understood that too. He had to be the strong one because everyone knew the worst thing in the world was the thought of a parent losing a child. It was every parent's fear, and for Emmett's parents it had been a very real possibility that had loomed over them for years.

But it wasn't fair because the idea of Emmett losing his brother wasn't something he could cope with either. He was terrified. He was helpless. And I remembered that. I remembered watching people hug and comfort my parents after Lucy died. I remembered pushing aside my own ache, because theirs had to be so much worse.

I was still acting on instinct when I started to kiss the side of his head, right along his ear so I could whisper to him. "You can be scared with me." Because I wasn't going to let him do what I'd done. I wasn't going to let him straighten up and pretend he was alright only to cry into his pillow at night so no one would hear.

There was no greater loneliness than that.

At my words, he slumped again and started crying all over.

So I held him, and stroked his hair, his back, along his strong arms. I kissed the side of his head because it was an expression about how much I cared. I cared for him so much, and I didn't want him to lose his brother.

When he calmed again my hands were on either side of his face. He pulled away from my shoulder and he looked at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. I stroked his cheeks with my thumbs, wishing I could make it better. I felt so much tenderness for this man who'd had to deal with far, far too much before he was ready.

I can't rightly say which of us moved first. I held Emmett's face in my hands and he wrapped his hands around my wrists. I thought, for a second, that he was about to pull my hands away; I thought I may have gotten uncomfortably close. Instead, he leaned in a little. I felt the atmosphere shift just a bit. He sniffled, his eyes roaming my face. Then, just like that, for the second time in our lives, we were kissing.

Maybe I should have stopped and taken care of his hands first. Maybe I shouldn't have let him use me to mitigate his spiraling moods. Honestly, I didn't give a shit about all that at the moment. I would have done anything to help him and this… well, it didn't feel bad.

In fact, it felt so good, I almost felt guilty.

He needed control over something. He couldn't control what was happening to his brother. He had no choice but to stay and face the long, brutally exhausting days ahead. So I readily gave over what little control I had. Whatever he wanted to take from me, I would give it – that much I knew.

When his kisses went from uncertain to demanding, I kissed back just as hard. His tongue slid over my lips, and I let them part. He pulled me closer. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care.

He pulled us both to our feet and tugged up my shirt. My heart started pounding, but I let him take it off. I shuddered against his mouth with pleasure and want as his hands ran over my chest.

When he stopped and pulled away slightly I whimpered a little at the loss of contact. By then we were both breathing hard. At some point I'd ended up with my bare back against the wall - right next to the hole he'd made with his fist. He brought both of his hands up, wincing as he pressed them flat on the wall on either side of my head. He was leaning so close to me we were breathing in each others' hot, panted air. I wanted to touch him real bad. I wanted to put my hands up his shirt, against his broad, strong back and pull him to me. But he was the one that called the shots that night.

I kept telling myself that when he put his hands at my waist and spun me around so my hands were up against the wall and his body was flush against mine.

Torn as I was, scared as I was, I still wanted to give him what he wanted. Whatever he wanted.

Leaning my forehead against the cool wall, I waited.

After a long, painful minute, I heard him shudder. When his arms wound around my waist, just holding me, I jumped a little bit. He rested his forehead against my shoulder. He was trembling. I could feel his whole body shaking as he held me tight.

Slowly, I dropped my hands to his, running my fingers over his knuckles, feeling the unbelievable tension there.

I didn't know what was happening here. All I knew is that I felt his pain as real as if it was my own, and I had to do something to soothe it, make it better.

Carefully, I turned in his arms. He didn't let me go, but he didn't look at me either. I reached behind me, unwinding his hands and holding them in front of us. "Let's lay down," I suggested because honestly, he was swaying on his feet.

Grief could be so exhausting.

He didn't say a word, just nodded. He let me lead him, looking for all the world like a forlorn, terrified child.

I took him to his room.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" I asked, not wanting to leave him but not knowing how welcome I was.

He still wasn't looking at me. The way he was staring off into space, looking at nothing at all, I didn't even know if he heard me. Just as I was about to turn tail and give him a little room, I heard him whisper. "Yeah."

I didn't know until that point that Emmett was even capable of whispering. Emmett boomed.

At first, I sat on the edge of the bed just stroking his hair for a minute.

Slowly, I got to leaning against the headboard, and then slumping down bit by bit until I was beside him. Maybe I was imagining things, but the air felt a little less oppressive each time I got closer to him.

With my hand on his broad back, I tried to imagine all the good things I could - strength, what peace he could find, even humor - flowing from me into him. He'd need it all for whatever fight was coming. He could borrow some of mine.

His ragged breathing eased somewhat. He was still faced away from me, but his posture seemed less tense.

Before we both fell asleep, he reached behind him, grabbing my hand. He wrapped my arm around him, his hand holding me there.

Tentative, I kissed his shoulder once, raised myself up a bit and kissed his cheek. He sighed, his fingers tightening around me.

And that was how we fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to jadedandboring. And again, thanks to Conversed. Part of this chap has been around since we cooked up this story, oh, ages ago.
> 
> Uh.
> 
> So? How are we doing?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *hugs and smooches*

_Ah, hell_.

I'm not so manly I can't admit that I love, I mean love, waking up being spooned. Even better? Being the little spoon.

Yeah, even big guys like me can have a sensitive side.

What I wasn't used to, what I wasn't at all sure I liked? Morning wood poking at my ass.

_The fuck..._

And suddenly I remembered.

Fuck.

I was supposed to wake up this morning in my parents' house, still stuffed with Thanksgiving dinner. I was supposed to go downstairs and have leftover turkey stuffed into leftover rolls with leftover cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and probably even green beans on top. Leftover sandwiches were practically my favorite part of Thanksgiving.

Instead, last night the only food I'd had was whatever Jasper put in my hands, and it had all tasted like dirt. But whatever. It had to be better than being fed through tubes, which was where Edward was at.

Thinking about what was ahead - all the hospital visits, the treatments, Edward turning into a walking skeleton again - food was the last thing on my mind. That was how I knew how fucked up I was about the whole thing: I wasn't hungry at all.

That and, holy shit... I kissed the fuck out of my best friend and roommate.

But I didn't want to think about that. I couldn't think about that. If I started thinking, I'd have to reason. I'd have to figure out my emotions, and how could I do that when I had to be at the hospital?

I still remembered with clarity how this went. There would be more information. Good news and bad news conversations.

God, I hoped there would be good news conversations.

The doctors would tell us all about the options. None of them would be good. None of them would be ideal. What they meant were varying levels of pain and discomfort for Edward all aimed at upping his odds.

None of them would be guarantees.

"Shit," I muttered, digging my fists into my eyes. I was going to start crying again like a little bitch. That wasn't good for anyone. Edward got to cry - though he probably wouldn't - and Mom and Dad got to cry - which they would outside of Edward's view.

Me? Just. No.

_Suck it up, Cullen._

I wasn't going to whine about it.

Resolved, I turned my attention to the task of getting out of the apartment without waking Jasper. I just... couldn't deal with all of that right then.

I felt like a prick, like I was one of those assholes who ran out on a girl - guy - the morning after without leaving a phone number. But that was stupid. First of all, he was in my bed, in my room. And I lived there. I'd be back tonight, more than likely.

And we hadn't done anything, really.

I managed to slip out from under his arm and got the hell out of there. I backtracked though and left a note on the fridge reminding him to record this show we were supposed to watch together. We'd planned on it, but I was going to be at the hospital all day.

And that way he would know things weren't weird between us, right?

Fuck. I hoped things weren't weird between us. Drama was just not what I needed right now.

Then I was out the door, in the car.

I spoke to Mom on the way to the hospital. She said they were going to be talking to the doctors. Specialists. What fun.

I didn't want to hear about it, though I probably would when they packaged it all nice and pretty for Edward later.

So when I got to the hospital, the only person with Edward was his girlfriend. Cute kid, that girl. Not my type, but I understood why Edward liked her. She had a pretty little smile, and when he saw it, he absolutely lit up.

Cute.

And she'd been a champ yesterday, really. When I had a spare second to think about it, I could appreciate that she hadn't been all teenage drama queen about any of it.

Still, I felt... protective about the whole thing. Maybe she didn't start snot sobbing yesterday, but I knew from experience it was a lot, to see Edward go through what he'd be going through. There were so many times when I caught myself wishing I just didn't have to deal with it, wishing there were no more hospitals, and no more seeing my brother so weak and sickly.

There were so many times I just wanted out, I wanted to run away.

But Edward was my brother, and I couldn't run away.

Bella had no such ties to him.

What I thought I was going to do about it, I didn't know. The damage was done. He was obviously in love with her. If she ditched him, it would kill him.

Maybe literally.

Usually, I didn't mind spying on my brother, but the impetus behind it was different. Yesterday it was all about catching him in the act. Today, I was searching for some kind of reassurance. Scrutinizing.

I was kinda surprised to peer into the room and find them both smiling. Bella had her head laid near his on his pillow. She was holding his hand, whispering in his ear. They both giggled at something he said.

Adorable, but again, it made me nervous.

I watched them for a few minutes before Bella sighed, glancing at her phone. Edward nodded, looking resigned as she stood. Before she left, she leaned down to kiss his forehead and then his lips.

That made me feel slightly better. She didn't think he was gross, as pale as he was, hooked up to machines.

And when she turned away from him, I saw very clearly exactly what she was doing.

I knew that look.

That look was exactly how I felt. That look was what had to be on my face every time no one was watching. It was all agony and fear. There was just no other way to describe it. Honestly, I was impressed she'd kept it from him - impressed and grateful.

Edward had enough to deal with.

She was trying to be strong for him.

When she stepped out of the room, surreptitiously wiping tears she'd only barely let fall from the corners of her eyes, I touched her shoulder.

"Please," I said, low enough so Edward couldn't hear me though I knew he was looking at us curiously. "Please try not to hurt him."

Her eyes were fierce, the sadness chased away by anger, but I think she understood why I had to say it. "I won't. I'd die first."

Funny. She meant it. I could tell.

So I nodded. That was the end of that, and I wasn't going to think about it anymore because I couldn't change it.

"What did you say to her?" Edward asked, sounding tired but protective.

Sometimes, he made it just a little easier to smirk.

"So," I began innocently, ignoring his question as I settled into the chair at his side. "Did you fuck her yet?"

Yeah, not even cancer was dire enough to stop me from teasing my little brother about girls. What?

"Jesus, Emmett. I mean... That's..."

For a guy who had looked so g'damned pale five seconds ago, he turned a pretty deep shade of red. I chortled.

"It's just me. Let's get real here."

He looked like he bit into a lemon rind. "Well, uh... Yeah."

My eyes bulged. "Dude! Really?"

If anything, he got redder.

"Dude!" I extended my fist. If that didn't deserve a good fist bump, I didn't know what did.

At least he wouldn't die a virgin.

Jesus Christ.

I couldn't believe I'd thought that.

"Do you love her?" I asked, mostly because I needed to get that damning thought out of my head.

"Can I tell you something without you freaking out?" he asked instead of answering me.

Questions like that were a trap, pure and simple. What was the point of asking? It wasn't like I had a choice. Was I going to tell him no? Of course not! It didn't matter; if he was asking me that question, whatever he had to say was probably going to gut me where I stood. But how could I be a baby about it when it couldn't possibly be more painful than the fight he had ahead of him?

And if I was guessing right, it was something he could never tell Mom or Dad. They would freak right the fuck out if they knew some of the stuff Edward and I had talked about last time.

Sometimes I thought keeping Mom and Dad at least not as worried as they could have been was half Edward's whole battle.

I put on a big smile for him, pretending like I wasn't dreading the next few minutes of my life. "Lay it on me, bro."

Edward swallowed and licked his lips before he spoke. "Last time? I was okay with dying. Really okay."

Yep. I was pretty sure it would have hurt less to swallow razor blades.

With spikes on all the bits that weren't already sharp.

Luckily, Edward wasn't looking at me. He'd turned his head to stare out the window.

"I wanted to live for Mom and Dad, and for you," he continued. "But if it had been just me? I was okay with letting go. I was okay with just... not... being."

He looked at me, and it took everything I had left to keep my face even. I was terrified of what he was going to say next.

"It's not okay anymore, Em. I don't want to die. I can't." His voice trembled. "I do love her. I want to keep loving her."

I let out all my air in a big whoosh, relieved, before I could think of a response. "Well, I'd say that's just fine, 'cause you're not going to die, kid. It's just not an option."

"Come on," he said with a little growl. "You know the statistics as well as I do. You know my chances are less now than they were before."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Now, what is the point of thinking like that? Don't count your chickens before you know what the eggs look like."

Edward's expression went from anxious to completely perplexed, and he laughed. "That made no fucking sense. You're an idiot."

"Pfffft. As if."

"Hey, Emmett?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell did you do to your hand?"

 _Ah, hell_.

_**~Jasper~** _

"I think, under the circumstances, that you should probably let him lead."

I stared at Alice. Her tone did not at all match the look on her face.

"Why do you look like someone's got you by the balls then?" I challenged.

She made a face at me. "I don't have balls!"

"Alice," I groaned.

"Well, it's just that I don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

I blinked at her. "What? Why would I get hurt."

She stared at me dubiously. "Because you have a crush on him. You've had a crush on him since I've known you, and a crush that's lasted this long... It can't be easy to kiss him after all this time."

My impulse was to call bullshit.

Emmett was my best friend.

My best  _straight_ friend.

Or, you know, whatever. Maybe he wanted to kiss on dudes and girls for the time being. Who knew? The more I talked to people, the more I realized that nothing was black and white. Wasn't there that scale? Most people weren't all the way in with either sex.

Maybe Emmett was in the middle.

"He's my best friend," I mumbled lamely. "Besides you, I mean."

Alice snorted. "Yeah, but you've never looked at me the way you look at him, baby doll."

Before I could excuse myself away, she continued. "Look, all things being equal... if this whole thing wasn't happening with his brother, if nothing was going on in his life, what would you want?"

"This isn't about me, Alice. I'm scared for him, what-"

"You see? This is exactly why I'm scared you'll get hurt." She gave a frustrated sigh, flopping back on my bed. "You're going to do the Jasper thing."

"The Jasper thing?" I had a thing?

"Yeah. That thing you usually do for your parents where you wrap yourself up in what they want, what they need, and you forget you're just a human being and there's only so much you can take." She sat up again, her smile sardonic. "The crap thing about this whole situation is that Emmett is the only one who can make you not do that, and he probably won't in this case."

Right on cue, we heard Emmett's car pulling up.

"Jasper, just remember," Alice said quickly, grabbing my hand impulsively and squeezing tight. "I know you want to be a good friend, and you are such a good friend, but remember that being there for him doesn't mean you should stop looking out for yourself."

I couldn't come back at that before Emmett walked in the door.

For a split second, he looked like an old man, all stooped shoulders and an expression that looked ready to turn into jowls, it was that low. But then he saw Alice and he stood up straighter, put on an easier expression. "Hey, Ally girl."

"Hey, Emmy," Alice greeted. She jumped and he stooped. They'd perfected this hug last year. She hung on longer this time though, and he squeezed her back. "I'm sorry about your brother. How's he doing?"

"You know, kid's a trooper," Emmett said sincerely, setting her down again. "They, uh... they said he'll probably be stable enough to go home in the next couple of days." He took a deep breath. "And then they'll start treatment."

Alice was all sympathetic looks as she rubbed his arm. "Have you called Rose and Jake yet?"

He looked confused. "Why would Edward need Rose and Jake? He doesn't even like Jake and Rose-"

"Not for him. For you," Alice clarified.

Emmett looked away, giving a little laugh that was painful to hear, it was so thin. "I'm fine. I don't need anything."

Alice sighed, but she didn't press the issue. "I'm gonna get going. Call me if you need me, okay?"

Emmett's answering nod was vague.

After Alice left, I waited, not knowing what to say. I was afraid if I opened my mouth the first thing I would ask would be something about the kiss... the kisses.

I'd been trying to ignore it, but I had a lot of questions about those kisses - a lot.

But that wasn't important. There were many more important things. I just couldn't trust my tongue to know that for sure.

Emmett looked at me finally, rubbing the back of his head.

"You're here earlier than I expected," I observed. There was a crazy-strong impulse to get up and go to him - hug him, touch him - that made my fingers twitch, but I manged to keep my ass planted.

Let him lead, Alice said.

Emmett let out a long breath. "Yeah, well... Edward was sleeping, and my parents finally got a hotel room. I don't think they've slept since they got up at eight o'clock yesterday morning, so I'm... uh... here."

There were a lot of questions I should have been asking. Particularly me. I knew all the lingo. I knew all the things he'd had to hear about today.

It all made me nauseated. I didn't want to talk that talk again.

I sucked in a breath. "Do you want to talk?" I finally asked. Open ended question. It put the ball in his court so he could tell me what he needed.

"No." Surprisingly, Emmett started shaking his head like a little kid who was just told to eat his vegetables. "Let's, um... Let's watch the thing, okay? You recorded it, right?"

Took me a minute to figure what he was talking about. It seemed like ages ago, a different life almost, that we agreed we were taking over his parents' big screen to watch this mini-series that was running over Thanksgiving weekend.

"Uh, yeah," I stumbled. "Yeah, I recorded it. I think it's still going on though."

"That's true. It's early."

Emmett took a few steps and stopped. He was staring at the bloody hole in the wall.

My breath caught.

Would he apologize for his behavior?

Would he want to talk about what happened afterward?

He turned away and started again for the couch, sitting on the end opposite me.

He turned on the television, turning his face forward.

Well, okay then.

After a few minutes of this, my throat was tight for some reason, and I suddenly understood the term 'there was an elephant in the room.'

The motherfucker was zebra striped in purple and yellow and it was sitting on my chest.

What the fuck was this tension? Why did I feel like I was about to go right out of my skin if he didn't-

"Maybe it would be a good idea to call Rosie," he muttered.

_Uh. What?_

"What?" I asked.

He scooted over to the middle couch cushion and looked me right in the eye. "Rosalie," he said again. "I know things have been over between us for a while, but she was always up for the physical stuff."

"Oh. Uh. Okay," I stuttered.

The man wasn't making a lick of sense, but for some reason, I was hurting like a sonova bitch. Right smack in the middle of my chest was just this squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. I rubbed my chest, trying to will away the ache.

Emmett scooted again, and I realized with a start that he was all up in my bubble space.

And then the ache didn't matter because my heart was pounding right past it.

"I just don't want to think for a while." There was something strangely desperate about Emmett's tone, almost like he was pleading. "She's a good kisser."

Obviously, my brain was broken. It didn't compute, what was going on. His words didn't match his face, and his face didn't match the way his body was leaning in my direction.

Which was I supposed to listen to? His words, his expression, or his body?

I leaned toward him. "You want to kiss... Rosalie?"

"Yeah. It's nice."

And then he was kissing me.

Me.

Again.

I was willing to forget how confused I was because damn.

I mean, this was a thorough kiss.

So thorough, I suddenly found myself pressed back against the arm of the couch.

That was when I stopped trying to think. Let him lead? Well, if he wasn't stopping, than I wasn't going to.

If you wanted to know the truth of the matter, last night had sparked a whole mess of questions in my head, none of them what one would call pressing matters, but they sure as hell begged for answers.

I wanted to know how it felt to cradle his face in my hands as I kissed him.

Emmett felt a lot different than Peter. His face was wider between my hands, and he was a lot scruffier. Peter was well manicured. His weight, when we made out like this, was a lot... less.

It wasn't unpleasant by any means. Emmett was a heavy bastard, thick, but his weight pressing into me was... welcome.

Completely painless suffocation.

It wasn't graceful, because he held me like he was used to, the way I'd seen him hold women, but it was a new experience, a good experience, to be so completely surrounded.

I ran my fingers down his neck, across his chest, around to his back.

When I reached down to cup his ass, he gasped and went flying back into a sitting position.

The world was still as the heaviest Texas summers; the atmosphere was so thick, I could have walked on it. And awkward. Holy hell. We were both breathing hard, and my legs were over his lap - when the fuck had that happened?

Carefully, I sat up, putting my feet flat on the ground.

Emmett rubbed the back of his neck.

"I think..." he started.

I held my breath.

"I think the show is over now. We can watch it."

I blinked stupidly, but I could breathe again.

_Okay, then..._

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hmmm.
> 
> Thanks so much to Shug for beta work and barburella for making a beeline for my docs all the time. Makes me feel important and such.
> 
> So, fair warning. I don't think we have much of this story left. I'd say it'll be around 15 chapters, but we'll see. I promise it will take exactly as long as it needs to and no more.


	13. Chapter 13

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Last summer, Jasper and I talked forever about what majors we were going to declare when we had to choose our classes. He chose mathematics and computer science because he just can't stop being a nerd for five minutes, so why not make it official? I chose comparative sociology because it sounded interesting, so why not?

Yeah, why not.

Because now I was staring down at a book from a course called the Anthropology of Food and Eating that sounded hella cool when I was registering for classes, and maybe it had been a couple of weeks ago before Edward was sick again, but now...

I mean, fuck.

So I was sitting there, staring at all my research about why you got guys like me who could shove a whole submarine sandwich down my throat without gagging living in the same world as people who don't get that much food in a month.

And it all just pissed me off. I was pissed off because Edward was more of a growing boy than I was at that point and he probably could wolf down a sandwich right now like I could. I was pissed off that there were starving children on the street who I should probably give some thought to, but I couldn't.

How could I concentrate on any of this shit?

None of it was real. At least, none of it was as real as what was going on at home.

"Fuck this shit," I muttered, slamming my books closed.

Way too restless, I wandered out to the kitchen, opened the fridge and stared at the contents.

Well, there was a first for my paper. Normally, if the refrigerator came open, I was getting one of whatever was in there. Not today.

Actually, if I was being honest about it, not since  _then_.

I closed the door.

The first thing I saw was the lumpy little magnet that was supposed to be a heart. Lucy's gift to her big brother. I remembered the day he put this dilapidated little thing on the fridge. That was the day I realized that his little sister was dead.

Slowly, almost not realizing what I was doing, I picked the thing up. It was so little. The perfect size for something made with little child-sized hands.

I only knew that little girl from Jasper's picture. I wondered if she'd handed him the thing with a big, expectant smile on her face, or if she'd been shy about it. I wondered what her laugh sounded like.

I wondered if Jasper remembered.

What if...

What if, some years from now, Edward was gone.? What if it would all boil down to this - some tiny little item, some thing that was important because it had once belonged to my brother.?

What if that was all I had left of him?

My throat closed and my eyes burned. Why the hell was I thinking about this? Useless bullshit. I was sick of my rage and sick of wanting to cry all the time.

What the fuck was wrong with me anyway? It wasn't like this the first time. I wasn't such a wreck back then, and we hadn't known what to expect yet.

Or maybe that was it. Maybe it was because I knew what was going to happen and what could happen, and the idea of going through that again made me want to just...

Searching for a distraction, my eyes fell on the other magnets on the fridge.

_How are you feeling today?_

I stared at the mood magnets Jasper and I had gotten together. My mood. One of the choices was healthy.

Yeah, I paid attention in English class. I understood how healthy could be a mood, but right then, the word mocked me. Of course I was healthy. That was part of the problem. What good did that do other than my parents didn't have to worry about me? I wished Edward needed a kidney or something I could actually give him.

Tired now, I let my eyes wander to Jasper's side of the fridge before I could concentrate too hard on some of the other moody faces: fear, helplessness.

Apparently, Jasper was feeling confused.

Guilt twisted my gut, and I leaned my arm against the fridge and my head against my fist.

"Emmett?"

Speak of the devil.

Straightening up, I unclenched my fist, realizing belatedly I was still holding Lucy's heart in my hand. I put it back on the fridge before I turned around, trying to swallow around the lump in my throat. "Hey," I said, trying for light. Honestly, it sounded like a frog croaking. I frowned.

Jasper had this way of looking at me. It wasn't sympathy in his eyes, like most people who knew my situation - Edward's situation. It was like he was reading me, reading my mood. Like he could see what I was trying to put aside.

That thought made me nervous.

I knew I wasn't being fair to him. I knew it. It wasn't fair of me to use him because he was available and willing to kiss boys. Fuck me, it wasn't like I planned it in advance. None of them had been planned - the kisses. Of course I didn't plan them.

If I wanted to kiss Jasper, I would have done it ages ago. Right? I wasn't shy when I wanted something, someone.

Fuck.

"You make any headway on your paper?" he asked, and it took me a second to figure out what he was talking about. My head was all over the place.

I laughed. It was a weird sound. Choked somehow. "I, um... I just can't, dude. I can't do it," I admitted, scrubbing my eyes. "It's surreal, and it's stupid." I leaned against the fridge, feeling like the magnets digging into my back, the little points of pain, were the only thing keeping me grounded.

What the fuck was I even talking about.

"It sucks," he said slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets, looking down. "It sucks going to class, listening to lectures like your life will go on forever, like your whole fucking world can't change in the space of one phone call. It sucks listening to people talk and laugh like nothing's wrong. It all sucks."

I kept on staring up at the ceiling, listening to each word but not answering because yeah. That was the shit I couldn't articulate. That was it exactly.

"But it's three more weeks, Emmett. It won't help Edward if you bomb your finals. It won't change anything." His voice was so quiet. He sounded just like Dad.

When I was a kid, Dad's soft voice meant even the things that were hard to hear would be okay.

"I shouldn't be here," I growled. "I can't be here. I need to be home, with Edward."

I could help. Like last time. Last time I could make him laugh... well, sometimes. And though he hated it, I could carry him upstairs when he fell asleep on the couch. Upstairs was hard for him some days, on the worst days. And when Dad was sagging, I could hold him up, and when Mom needed a hug, I could give it to her.

"Three more weeks," Jasper prompted again. "Then you're home for winter break."

Three more weeks seemed impossible. That was a stupid thing to think, but that's what it felt like.

I knew how this went.

A few weeks wasn't going to make a difference, and I'd see Edward every weekend. Mom and Dad were clear. They wanted me at school. It would just stress them out more if I didn't finish my classes.

I felt like I was going out of my skin just standing there. I'd always been restless when I couldn't be out doing something, but this was different. It was weightier than wanting to be outside when I had to be sitting still in class.

Jasper touched my hand, his fingers sliding to grasp my wrist, and he tugged me away from the fridge toward my bedroom. My fingers twitched like I wanted to hold his hand while we walked. Automatic reactions, I guess. Guys didn't usually grab my wrists like that after all.

Automatic, ingrained reactions had to be why my thoughts, grasping for some sort of lightness, wandered to other times when other people - female people - led me down hallways to my room or their room. It was just that I didn't know how to wallow; Edward got all the wallowing genes. I did know how to flirt and get my mack on and...

That had to be why, when we got to the doorway of my room, I turned, forcing Jasper up against the door by taking up all the space between us. Up against the door kisses ranked among my favorite.

But I wasn't going to kiss him; not this time. I just wanted to be somewhere else, doing something distracting, and he was a willing body. It wasn't fair to him.

I swear I was about to back off, about to stop staring at his lips - they really were nice, full lips. My body was rigid because all I wanted to do was feel the warmth of his body - of a body - in my arms and his lips moving with mine. I just needed a minute to get control and I'd push away from the wall, and-

Jasper, who'd had his hands pushed flat against the door, suddenly spread his hands wide on my chest. His fingers made fists, gripping my shirt. He pulled me closer with surprising strength, his lips hard on mine.

Whoa.

But before I could really get into kissing him back, he pulled away, still gripping my shirt. His eyes... I'd never seen his eyes look so wild. It was the kind of look that went straight to my dick, and I swallowed a groan.

"What do you want?" he demanded, shaking me a little. There was an edge to his voice, and I remembered his mood - confused. He shook me again. "What do you want from me?"

I just stared at him like an idiot, completely unable to move, my whole body tensed.

You know what? I didn't know the answer to his question.

Well, no. What immediately came to mind, what I really wanted, was to be kissing him again. But just then, I didn't remember the words I needed to ask, I couldn't ask. Staring at him - my roommate, my best friend who was unquestionably a dude - my tongue felt like lead and my thoughts were nonsensical. I didn't know how to separate what I wanted from what I should, or I guess shouldn't, be doing.

Something in his expression changed. Where there had been a wildness - an emotion that looked how I felt, confused but wanting - a determination came over his features. I could see it in the set of his jaw, and the way his eyes locked with mine - much more sure than I'd ever seen him.

Releasing one hand from my shirt, he took off his glasses, setting them on the edge of my desk.

In the brief moment his eyes were off me, I sucked in a huge breath. I felt like I was in one of those Tilt-a-Whirl things: my body frozen, my stomach roiling, but holy God there was this thrill. It was fear, but it was excitement. It was that moment in the ride where you're not quite sure you're going to open your mouth to whoop and holler or throw up and start crying.

Both of Jasper's hands were back on me again, and he pushed me back, up against the wall opposite the door.

Looking in his eyes, all the breath left my body. Intense. It was too fucking intense, and I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to.

Never dropping his eyes, he let his hands skim down over my chest, his touch light but firm. I shivered. It felt like my blood had turned into an electric current running through my veins, making every nerve I had come awake, aware.

I swallowed a groan because his touch was having an unmistakable effect on my body. He must have felt it. He was close enough against me, his body brushing mine in all the right places, that he had to feel it. I wondered if I should have been embarrassed or laughed it off or pushed him away but I couldn't move.

His hands skimmed lower, over my abs. He was still staring at me, watching. If I told him to stop, he would have. I knew that.

If anything, he got closer, his body against mine and his hands between us. His lips were so close I could feel the heat of his breath.

"Do you want this?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but strong, and as he spoke, he let one hand dip lower, cupping me through my jeans.

I whimpered.

I  _whimpered_.

And I had to close my eyes because I couldn't take the intensity in his anymore. It was too much. With this kind of thing, with the physical thing, I'd always been the dominant one. Or I guess, with Rosalie, it was more a matter of equals. But even then, I was bigger than her, stronger, and while I would never use that strength against her, we both knew it existed.

It wasn't the same with Jasper. Yeah, I was wider across the shoulders than him, but he was well toned. The way he touched me, the way his hands felt on me, was not feminine. In some far corner of my mind, I thought that should have been wrong to me. It was different, but wrong? No.

Holy fuck. He was rubbing his hand against me, and it didn't feel wrong at all.

He kissed me once - a small kiss, sweet. My lips responded to his instantly, seeking.

He kissed me as his hand kept working me through my jeans.

He released my mouth but started to press his lips to spots along my jaw. I whined a little when I didn't feel the pressure of his palm against my cock, but I was quickly distracted because he'd moved his hands to the button of my jeans.

My heart was going crazy, and I was breathing so hard I felt my shoulders rising and falling like I was pumping weights. It was all the breathlessness without the burn in my muscles.

Jasper's lips were at my ear now. "Tell me to stop."

It wasn't a plea or a command. It was an out. He would stop. All I had to do was open my mouth.

I shook my head no instead.

He kissed the underside of my chin, and I tilted my head back, feeling the cool air on my legs as my jeans puddled around my feet. He kissed my neck.

Typically speaking, in this situation, my hands were everywhere. I was always an active participant in this kind of situation. Now, though, it took all of what little concentration I had to keep my hands pressed flat against the wall. I was shaking like a little girl stuck out in the rain, and I was trying hard to control that.

With my eyes closed, I felt rather than saw Jasper drop down to his knees.

Jesus Christ.

His fingers hooked into my boxers, pulling them down. This was familiar. This had happened to me before, and my eyes were closed. It could have been anyone - any girl.

But his hands weren't as delicate when they were on me. He knew exactly how to handle me, too. It wasn't like some girls whose touches were too light or others who were too rough or too sloppy or...

Fuck. Me. Running. He knew what he was doing. God, he knew.

When his mouth closed over me, my eyes shot open. I was staring at the ceiling, afraid to look down because part of me felt like I was going to freak right the fuck out at any given moment.

_This is not happening, this is not happening, this is-_

I moaned out loud as he took more of my cock in his mouth, his tongue was firm along my length.

I looked down. I couldn't not.

All I could see was his blond head moving, bobbing. Instinctually, I moved one hand, threading it through his hair, his long, soft hair. The familiarity of that motion calmed me somewhat. I was used to long, soft hair. I could almost believe it was Rosalie.

"Jesus. Jesus that's good, baby," I heard myself muttering. Familiar words. Wrong somehow because it was better than good. Better than the best I'd ever had.

Still moving his mouth, his tongue, his lips over me, he looked up.

Looking down into his eyes, watching my cock slide into his hot, wet mouth, I couldn't deny what I was seeing. He wasn't Rosalie.

He was my roommate. My best friend. Jasper. A dude.

And the way he was looking at me, the way he was watching me watch him suck my cock, made my entire body tense. It was visceral. I felt that look like it was another way he had of causing sensation. His mouth on my cock, his hands on my balls, and that intense look in his eyes.

The edge it pushed me to was frightening. I didn't use words like that often, but no other word fit. I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell him to stop because I couldn't cope with the potency of the physical and emotional brink I found myself on. But instead of stop, the only word that tumbled from my lips was, "Yes."

And I moaned. A lot. Like, I should have felt like an idiot moans.

Debauched. That was what this was. Depraved. Something. Bad?

No. No. Fuck. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I was going to come stupid fast. Embarrassingly fast. My hand tightened into a fist in his hair, and I tried to stutter. "I'm... fuck. Jesus."

When I came, my vision went white for one, two, three, four forever-long seconds.

My head was thrown back against the wall. I was wheezing like an asthmatic who'd just run a lap or twenty. My fingers were still tangled in Jasper's hair; it must have been painful, but he didn't complain. Fuck no.

He swallowed around me, licking up the last little bit of come before he pulled my boxers and my jeans back up. I was shaking, feeling like if I stepped away from this fucking wall I'd fall right on my face. He stood, and his eyes locked with mine again.

I knew he was going to kiss me. I let him.

I could taste me in his mouth.

And it wasn't gross, but I also didn't know what I was supposed to be feeling, thinking.

What the fuck was the protocol in this situation? I almost wanted to say thank you, but that was rude as all fuck.

Pulling back, he watched me for a long moment. It was heavy and awkward. I saw uncertainty flash through his eyes, and I wondered what my face looked like.

He looked down at the ground, clearing his throat. "You ready to work on that paper now?"

There was no inflection in his tone. It made my heart do a weird twisty thing.

"Um. I, uh..." I stumbled, because I was sure we were supposed to be talking about anything other than that stupid paper.

Right then, I couldn't have told you what the paper was supposed to be about.

I exhaled in a gust. "Yeah. Paper. Yes."

I'd been reduced to caveman-like grunts. There was a joke in there somewhere, but I couldn't find it.

Jasper just nodded slowly. "Okay then. Would it be easier for you if I typed and you dictate, or do you want me to help you look up references?"

"Jasper..." I started, but when he looked up at me, his eyes guarded as he slid his glasses back on, I really didn't know what to say. Fuck, even offering him a soda to wash down the crap taste of my spunk might have been... polite?

I grumbled to myself. "Yeah. You can type," I said lamely.

"Okay," he agreed, sitting down at my desk and opening my laptop.

Slowly, feeling out of sorts, I sat down on the bed, dragging my books over, and we got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:Thank you so much to twitina - who I finally got to meet this weekend, weeeee - for beta help. Thanks to Barburella who I may kill later.
> 
> So. How we doing, kids?
> 
> I am participating in a pledge-a-thon. For $5 you can receive a private outtake from me. I'll also be doing a live chat/interview on June 30. It's for a great cause and I'm quite proud to be a part of it. Find out more here: bit . ly/ptblkris


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, my lovelies. I do love you.

_**~Jasper~** _

I suppose what I could have done - what I maybe should have done - was laugh the whole situation off. My jaw was sore the morning after. Emmett would have found that hilarious. It had been a while since I'd had a cock in my mouth and Peter wasn't as thick as Emmett was - a fact that would have brought a huge, dimpled grin to my mildly egotistical roommate's face.

At least we would be acknowledging something happened.

But it shouldn't have happened. I shouldn't have done what I did.

With all that was happening with his brother, Emmett wasn't in what anyone would call a good place. I wasn't idiot enough to believe that he was kissing on me because he wanted me, because he was trying to seduce me.

So why oh why had I turned on him like that?

Peter told me so many times that I could be sexy when I wanted to be - seductive. He told me so many times I wasn't meant to be meek and mild and glued to a computer screen.

He said to give it time. When I wanted it, I would know how to get it. I'd laughed because the idea sounded so completely stupid. What was I gonna do? The most I knew about flirting was the lines the characters in WoW were programmed to spout with the flirt command.

_Is that a mana wyrm in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?_

Emmett would have been a whole different kind of confused - the kind where the lines on his forehead crinkled up and he laughed at me.

His laugh. Damn, I'd missed his laugh lately.

But see, that was the problem.

These last couple of weeks, Emmett had kissed on me more than once. I didn't mind the kisses. Of course I didn't mind the kisses. They were amazing. Amazing to the point that when I zoned out in class, it was because I was remembering the pressure of his lips on mine, his broad body on top of me, and-

Yeah.

It had gotten to the point where anytime I was home alone with him - and sometimes when I wasn't - my entire body would get rigid with tension just waiting. Waiting for the next time he pushed me up against the wall. Waiting for the next time his hands gripped my waist or...

There was no predictability to his mood swings at all. He could be the Emmett I was used to - well, the slightly morose version of the Emmett I was used to - or he could be that guy.

And Jesus God, that guy knew how to turn me on with just his lips and his touch.

That night, what I wanted was to concentrate on the important things. Emmett was having a difficult time getting through the last three weeks of the semester. As we walked down the hallway, I tried to push aside the want I felt, the eagerness and anticipation, wondering if I was going to get a kiss today.

When he did that thing where he pressed me up against the wall with just the presence of his body, I couldn't take it anymore. There were so many things I didn't realize I wanted until I took control, and it was me calling the shots instead of him.

I gave him an out - the last shred of self control I had - but still. I shouldn't have done it, and I knew it. The look on his face told me to stop. Yeah, there was want there, but there was also fear.

It was so selfish of me, taking what I wanted when it was just going to add to everything Emmett was dealing with. He was-

"I hear a lot of poor Emmett in this conversation," Alice interrupted my diatribe mid-word as I paced in her dorm room. "Poor Emmett this, and you're making him out to be the victim."

Hadn't she been listening? "Who else would this be about? I was the one-"

She interrupted me again. "Jasper, he's the one who keeps making out with you at random - without asking you if you're okay with it, I might add - and not saying a word about what it's all supposed to mean."

"He's going through a rough time right now."

"That's not an excuse!" She growled. Normally I found that hilarious. She was such a tiny thing her ferocity was funny, though I knew from experience she was as lethal as that bunny in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. "His brother is sick, which sucks. It really sucks. But it doesn't give him the right to fuck with you the way he is."

"He's not fucking with me."

"Yes, he is," Alice insisted. "Once, I can understand. He was out of control and it was going to come out some way. But just attacking you on a whim? No. That's wrong. And I can see what it's doing to you."

When I didn't answer, she eyed me in that way of hers that made me feel like she could see things I didn't want her to see.

"Tell me it isn't effecting you," she challenged. "Tell me it's easy to let him kiss you and just back away as if nothing happened."

I looked down, finding a doodad on her desk suddenly very fascinating. "He's a good kisser. Who wouldn't like that?"

"Don't play dumb. You know that's not what I mean."

I knew. I'd just been trying really hard not to think about that.

What I'd done a couple weeks before had unlocked a shit load of things I hadn't realized existed in my head. Or maybe I had realized it, but I'd pushed them away, tied them up tight, and thrown them to the bottom of the river in a sack full of bricks.

It was way too easy to picture things I probably shouldn't.

Before that thought could take hold, I shook my head. "Look, Emmett is straight as straight can be, okay?"

"What if he's not straight?"

I scoffed. "Have you seen Rosalie? You think a guy that goes after that kind of girl isn't straight?"

Her look was incredulous. "Hello? Has he been making out with Rosalie? He let you blow him, Jasper."

"A blow job is a blow job," I muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "Talk to him, Jasper."

"I'm not going to do that!" I ran my hand through my hair, trying to figure out why I was so riled up.

"So you're just going to keep on letting him use you whenever he pleases? Ugh." Alice picked up her pillow, buried her face in it for a second and yelled before she looked up at me again. "You know what the problem is with you gay boys? You're still BOYS. You don't know how to talk and it's multiplied by two."

She looked up, pointing her finger at me, her expression serious. "I'm going on record right now. I don't like this. You're in too deep, you're going to get hurt, and it's going to break my heart as much as yours. You're a big boy, and I can't stop you." She shook her head. "I don't like this," she repeated.

"Well," I hedged and then sighed. "You're going to like my plan even less."

_**~Emmett~** _

"Ah, Rosie. You're too good to me."

Rosalie smirked as she handed over the project I just couldn't get done for the life of me. Typically speaking, I was a fairly ethical kind of guy. It had taken some convincing before I let Rose do my project for me. I didn't like the idea of cheating, but saying I was distracted was an understatement.

The last week before winter break was going to be hell, just hell. I was just trying not to go insane. Anything that helped me pass was just a bonus at this point.

Dad and I had already had an argument about whether or not I was coming back next semester. He and Mom wanted me to stay in school, but I didn't see how that was going to happen. I had to be there.

Helplessness and frustration got overwhelming real quick, and I needed a distraction.

Tossing the folder off the bed, I was over her in a second, kissing on her hard. She squealed a little, but then she was right there with me, her smaller body bucking up against mine.

A few minutes later, I was thoroughly distracted, but not in a good way.

Things were... not happening downstairs.

Not for lack of trying. Rosalie's hands were everywhere, in all the right places, but nothing was working.

I was moving quickly from confused to anxious about it. I mean, what the fuck? This was supposed to be the sure thing, wasn't it? Everything else could be falling apart, but a guy can get off no matter what. It was one of many reasons why I never wanted to be a woman: that shit must have been a pain in the ass.

What. The. Fuck.

I'd heard that if you had these kinds of problems it became self-fulfilling prophecy. If I got more uptight, I was only going to screw myself over, so I tried to calm down. I ended up trying to distract myself from my distraction, trying to rest my thoughts on something I knew was going to turn me on.

Rolling onto my back, keeping Rosalie on me, I tried to concentrate on her gorgeous face. I mean, this chick was straight stunning. I ran my fingers down her face, through her pretty blond hair. The way she was looking at me alone should have turned me on.

My thoughts suddenly flashed to another blond, and the way he'd looked at me with eyes that spoke loud as words how much he wanted me while his lips were wrapped around my cock.

I got hard so fast, I actually gasped.

Freaked out, I grabbed Rosalie's waist, making her sit still a second before I shoved her - as gently as anyone could shove another person - off me. "Fuck."

Rosalie could go from turned-the-fuck on to pissed-the-hell off in under a second. It was one of her many talents. She looked furious enough that I feared for all my vital organs. She wasn't adverse to a good elbow jab; I knew that from experience.

"What the hell is a matter with you?" she demanded.

"Nothing," I muttered, rolling to the side. "Sorry. I didn't mean to push you like that."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I uh... I just started thinking about my brother, that's all."

I couldn't look at her but her silence couldn't have meant anything good.

"You're lying," she said flatly. There was no doubt in her voice.

"What the hell, Rose?" I tried to sound indignant.

"You're lying. Or if you're thinking about your brother right now, you've got much bigger problems."

I looked up long enough to figure out she was looking at my crotch which was tented.

Bastard dick.

I opened my mouth, knowing there was a joke about 'bigger problems' I should have been spouting, but my head was just knotted up. Knowing I was just going to stick my foot in it again, I shut my mouth.

Rosalie folded her arms. "What's going on with you? First you jump me out of nowhere, and then this?"

"Out of nowhere? Do I ever need a reason to jump you besides you being the most insanely attractive girl in the state?" Stroking Rose's ego never hurt. Never.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but there was some amusement there, I thought. "Bitch, who could resist this?" she gestured down at herself. "But typically you don't pounce. There's usually at least a little bit of charm. Maybe it's better. But, if you're just using me to forget about other things, that's an asshole thing to do anyway."

I winced.

"But why did you stop? Tell me what's going on with you."

There was no part of me that wanted to have that particular conversation with Rosalie. My flight-or-fight response was kicking in something fierce which didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but then again, what did at that point?

"I gotta go." I started gathering up my stuff.

Rose tried to rope me into talking, and I got so agitated, I was still mumbling to myself as I practically sprinted to my car.

When I was inside, I felt stupid. Stupid and ungrateful. Here she'd busted her ass to help me out - the girl had a full class load, after all - and I'd tossed her away from me like she was on fire. Any other girl would have been hurt. Rose was tough, but that didn't mean she deserved to be treated disrespectfully.

And then I ran. That was seriously cowardly shit.

Fight or flight. Base reaction. Fight wasn't an option, even verbally, so I ran.

Because the alternative?

Rosalie knew me too well. I was ready to sing. I was so close - close to spilling something I didn't know how to deal with.

For the last two weeks, thoughts of Jasper had kind of assaulted me at random. Though, I guess assault was the wrong word. My thoughts hadn't exactly been unpleasant.

Every time I started thinking about kissing him, about his lips around my cock and his hair in my fists, I fought to push those images away. I couldn't think about it. It felt so wrong: my thoughts bouncing between worrying for Edward and the things I wanted to do with my roommate.

But in the small space of my car, I couldn't stop the thoughts in their tracks. Rose had effectively drawn them out where I couldn't ignore them, couldn't explain them away as stray thoughts - because who could help the things that occurred to you randomly, right?

I could tell myself all I wanted that Jasper was just a catalyst. Most things slid right off my back, but what was happening with Edward wasn't like that - couldn't be like that. The fear, helplessness, and frustration was part of my blood, just under my skin, and it made me feel like I could go crazy.

It was a weight on my chest, and I couldn't lift it.

So of course it made sense, right? Kissing Jasper felt good. Kissing felt good. Blow jobs felt good.

But...

When I told Jake about Edward, he told me he was sorry, and how much that sucked. Then he tossed me a basketball and attempted to kick my ass in a little one-on-one. It helped a lot. The adrenaline, the competition - it all helped me channel my stress, and when I was worn out and sweaty on the concrete of the court, I felt better.

If I had to think about it - and suddenly, I couldn't not - I had to ask myself a pretty important question.

With Jasper, my first reaction, besides bawling my eyes out, was to kiss him.

I could disappear into his kisses.

Fuck.

And he turned me on. He really did. Now that I couldn't hold the thoughts back, I was inundated. All I could think about was that look in his eyes when I knew he wanted me. His body felt different pinned under mine. If I had to think about it, I would have expected it to feel weird. When I touched his face, I felt stubble. His body was broad and hard: not at all what I was used to. But rather than be weird, it was all just... hot.

Like drive me a little out of my mind hot.

I groaned to myself, shifting in my seat, and banged my head against the steering wheel.

The thing that was getting under my skin right then was the way I wanted him. I wanted him the way I wanted to want Rosalie.

Aw, hell.

See, Rosalie and I - we were a matched pair. There was no woman out there that could be more compatible with me. She had the body and the brains. She filled in all my blank spaces.

I tried to make it work with her, but there was always something missing. Being with her was nice, but it was never...

It had never felt like this; not even close.

My cell phone went off, making me jump and hit the horn of the car.

It was my mother's ring tone.

Like it always did when Mom called these days, my blood felt cold as ice. I forgot about anything and everything else. And then I really couldn't help the thought that made it hard to breathe, hard to even move.

What if this was the last call?

Panic pricked at my lungs, making breathing painful.

I answered the phone at the last possible second. "Mom?"

"Emmett?"

I breathed a little easier. Mom sounded tired but she wasn't crying.

We talked. Edward had been in for his first round of chemo. Of course, he was trying to pretend he was stronger than he was. He'd fallen, and he was okay, but he had a big bruise that covered most of his right thigh.

Again, the need to be home with my family was so strong, I almost started the car and got on the road right then. Mom had to talk me down.

"For heaven's sake, Emmett. You have finals next week."

Fucking finals. I was pretty sure I could pass most my classes without them.

Well. Not really, but whatever, who cared? I belonged at home with my family.

And it was stupid to think of anything else but that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, kids. There's a river in Egypt you should know about.
> 
> Thanks so much to barburella and GinnyW. Especially GinnyW cuz she doesn't like the slash but she loves me so much, she betas for me anyway.
> 
> Remember, if you want an outtake from me, bit . ly/ptblkris ... hit it up! Great cause!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here we go.

_**~Jasper~** _

I called Esme and Carlisle first, before I went ahead with my plan.

What I wanted to do was stay in Forks for most of the winter break. The way I saw it, if I wasn't around, Emmett would lose himself completely in his brother and his parents. As it was, it was a constant battle to keep him in the present.

I just couldn't let him do it. Already he was like a horse about to bolt, having to be convinced to last one more day, one day at a time.

When he got home, it would be all about his brother. And who could blame that? His parents were only human. Edward was sick. Emmett was strong. Emmett could wait, so he would wait.

Well, not on my watch. Emmett could take care of Carlisle, Esme, and Edward. I was going to take care of him.

That was the idea at least. But life was complicated, which yeah, I know that was like calling a tornado a wind tunnel.

I understood what Emmett was doing for me back when he crashed Lucy's birthday. I got it, and I didn't know how much I needed it until he was there for me.

It took me forever to realize something important. Emmett - he was concentrated on me. He always had been. He was the one who was trying to draw me out of my shell early on in our friendship. He took care of me. Hell, he even did my laundry. And hadn't he threatened to 'crack some skulls' if Peter treated me bad?

Some years and half the country removed from the situation in my parents' house - where I came second to Lucy even though she was dead - I had an inkling why I was so drawn to Emmett. He took care of me. Since Texas last year, it started to occur to me that I deserved to be the important one at least some of the time, even when it came to my parents.

And then Emmett was there for me again in the fallout. My parents and I... we were on awkward ground at the time being.

That was where the complication came in. Emmett helped me more than I really knew how to process by coming to me in Texas, but what was probably the right thing for me was hell for my parents. They just hadn't been the same. They'd been angrier - at me, at each other... at life - since then. Maybe they weren't ready to let go. Maybe keeping Lucy the focus of their lives was all that was holding them together, and when Emmett dared break that tradition, their fragile house of cards came tumbling down.

I didn't blame him. If anything, he was a catalyst to something which had to have happened eventually anyway. But I couldn't be a catalyst for his family. Yeah, someone should be there for Emmett, but not at the expense of the others, especially Edward.

That was the son-of-a-bitch about disease in general: it wasn't just the sick person that was fighting. At least, it shouldn't be.

So I called Emmett's parents before I just went ahead with my plans.

Esme straight burst into tears.

"You really are a sweetheart, Jasper Whitlock," she said, sniffling.

Ah, shucks.

"I know we haven't been fair to Emmett. You have no idea how much I want to be there for both my boys, like any mother should." Her voice was all watery. I felt terrible for making her feel guilty.

"You're only one person." It was the same thing I said to my Momma every time she had a break down about the fact I'd cooked my own dinner which I ate by myself for the fifth week running. But then, Lucy had been in and out of the hospital, and Momma and Dad has to work in between the times they were taking care of her. Me? I could handle a microwave and order a pizza just fine.

Momma had let herself be comforted. Esme? Not so much. "There's no excuse." She scoffed. "I know what you're doing for him, Jasper. I know his father and I... we couldn't have kept him in school. You did that."

Well, I didn't know about all that. All I'd done was let him dictate his papers to me, or quizzed him on his notes, or done whatever I could to keep him focused on the present.

And really, would Esme appreciate it as much if I told her I'd also blown him in the process?

I shook that thought away, about to inform her how little I'd done - fully intending to leave the part about the blowjob out - but she interrupted me.

"No. I may be a negligent mother, but I know my son. He needed someone holding him there."

She blew out a breath then and got down to business. She was all for my plan with some relatively minor concessions. Edward was self conscious about how sick he was, and how sick he looked. It'd probably be better if I didn't stay in the house. But to that end, Esme did own a little bed and breakfast in Forks.

"But the Christmas season has got to be busy for you. I mean, Forks is kind of a romantic little town, isn't it?"

"Losing one of my rooms is the least I can do," Esme assured me.

Both Carlisle and Esme expressed their thanks. It wasn't at all what I'd been looking for. I wasn't doing anything their son hadn't done for me. I didn't want thanks, I just didn't want to make things worse for any of them.

Course, there was no telling if my news would be something Emmett could appreciate. I knew I didn't appreciate it when he showed up on Lucy's birthday.

So that thought had me jumpy when I came in from my last final to find him packing.

"I don't think I'm coming back next semester." Emmett was talking the minute I stepped through his door. "I'm sure I need to talk to the dean. If they don't find you a new roommate before school starts again, I'll pay my share. I'm sure Mom and Dad don't mind."

His words were like a sucker punch to my gut. Not be roommates with Emmett?

"Why don't we take it one step at a time? Just go home and see how you are after New Years."

Emmett glanced up at me for the first time. "I'm not coming back til Edward is well or..."

He froze, his breath wheezing, he sucked it in so quick. My stomach twisted because I knew what he'd done. It was an unspoken rule that wasn't to be violated even under the most horrendous circumstances. Yeah, it was all anyone in his situation - in our situation - could ever think about, but it was never something that was said out loud.

He wasn't coming back until Edward was well or dead.

His huge hands had stilled over his suitcase, but I could see them tremble. His eyes had gone unfocused and far away to that dark, dark place where he was forced to imagine the world without his brother in it.

I stepped over to him and put my hand on his arm. He blinked as if coming out of a daze. To my surprise, he grabbed my hand, squeezing his eyes shut tight at the same time he crushed my fingers. I let him without complaint and after five painfully long seconds, he breathed out slowly and let me go.

He started packing again. "Kid's a fighter. He's gonna be fine."

There was an edge to his voice. He was talking to himself.

"Of course he's a fighter," I said, helping him fold.

"And he needs me. I can't be so far away."

He looked up then, and I suddenly realized just how close we were standing. It made me a little dizzy. Selfishly, I was thinking about how long it had been since he'd touched me, kissed me.

I was thinking about how I wanted him to do it again.

He blew out a breath through his nose, and I shook it off. "I know he needs you, Em," I said, turning away to put something else in his suitcase. "I'm just saying don't make any fast, hard decisions right now, okay? Let's just get home."

Slowly, he nodded, zipping up his bag.

Ah, crap. It was now or never.

"So, uh... do you mind if I ride with you?" I asked, looking anywhere but his face.

"You need a ride to the airport?"

"No. I need a ride to Forks."

Silence. None too comfortable, either.

"I don't get it," he said finally.

Of course he didn't. The last thing people like us - like him and me - expected was someone else to be there for them. "I'm going with you to Forks for the break. I'd appreciate the ride as I hadn't quite figured out how to get there yet."

"Oh." He blinked, and the stuck-on-stupid look on his face would have been hilarious under different circumstances. "But... your parents... I mean, it's Christmas, dude. That's a little fucked up."

"I'm going back for Christmas. For four days. Then I'm coming back to Forks."

"But why?"

 _Dude. Are you really gonna make me spell this out_?

"For you, of course."

"I'm fine," he snapped. He zipped up his suitcase with particular force. "There's nothing wrong with me. And Edward would have a fit if you were there."

"I'm staying at the Inn. Your mom set aside a room for me."

That made him stop short. "You've talked to my mom?"

"I talked to both your parents, yeah. I didn't want them to feel awkward with someone else around."

"Oh," he said again. "I don't need anyone. You should go home."

"Maybe I want to spend the winter in Forks, huh? I mean, there's no snow in Houston. Maybe I want a white Christmas season," I countered, trying to make a joke of it.

He finally looked up at me. "Sure. Fine. Whatever. I want to go now, though."

I hurried off to my room. Luckily, figuring it'd be a down to the second decision, I'd packed my bags the night before.

_**~Emmett~** _

I should have told him to fuck off.

See, that was my first reaction when Jasper said he was coming to Forks for the winter, but my second reaction was... happiness? Relief? Maybe a little excitement because if I was being honest, I wasn't looking forward to not seeing Jasper as frequently.

Which, really, is why I should have told him to fuck off.

Because my time was divided. I spent time with my brother and my parents, and then, when Jasper coaxed me out, I all but forgot about my family.

And yeah, being around Jasper when we didn't have the distraction of school and people our age milling all around was... interesting.

Interesting. Confusing.

And it totally took up every thought I had in my head.

Because, fuck a duck, I couldn't sit across from him in Forks's single bar and not remember how his lips felt wrapped around my cock, how his hair felt in my hands.

How it felt to kiss him.

How his hands on me were..

Fuck.

When he was gone those four days, he leaked into my thoughts even when I was with my family.

I... ached.

I think I missed him, and why it was so strong then, I didn't know. Maybe it was my brain's way of escaping. It wasn't easy playing like everything was okay when it wasn't. It really, really wasn't.

But why Jasper? Why that... stuff?

It was probably because it had been a long time since I was with a girl, that was all. He was the last one to touch me like that.

That was all.

It wasn't so abnormal. I'd always had a thing for pretty blonds. Jasper was pretty. And blond.

It wasn't like I'd seen or touched  _his_  cock after all.

More and more the days he was gone, I got lost thinking about him. The night before he was supposed to come back, that was exactly where I was: lost in thought. They weren't concrete at all but images, feelings, sounds, touch.

Good touch.

His eyes when he looked up at me, his mouth still wrapped around me.

The way it felt to wake up with his arms around me the day after Thanksgiving. And I suddenly decided I didn't mind his morning wood poking at me.

In fact, maybe I wanted...

But my thoughts wouldn't solidify around what I wanted. I was half asleep, drifting towards dreams. There was that fuck-good tightening and tingling in my dick, and I reached into my boxers, wrapping my hand around myself.

It felt good.

Behind my closed eyelids, I was seeing Jasper's sleepy eyes when he first came awake, I was seeing his sexy grin spread slowly across his face, and suddenly it became his hands on me.

It felt better.

There were all sorts of things that when I was thinking, I didn't let myself think.

Yeah, that wasn't a confusing thought at all.

But that was the point: I wasn't there. I was somewhere safe and warm with him. With his lips and his hands and his broader-than-a-girl-but-just-right body tucked under me, pressing up into me like he had when I pinned him back on the couch.

Yeah, it was good. So good.

Until a crash from the room next to mine made me jump out of bed.

For a few seconds, I was confused because the good dream seemed to be lingering, but there was something bad - so bad - trying to break through my haze.

It took way too long for me to figure out that the moaning I'd heard in my head wasn't sexy at all, and it definitely wasn't coming from Jasper. No, those were moans of absolute agony, barely stifled howls of pain.

Fuck!

I was out my door and over to Edward's room like a shot.

I found him on the floor, curled up in a ball with his blankets tangled all around him. His entire body was contorted in pain, his face pressed into a wad of blankets as he tried to muffle his hurt, and I figured out he'd been trying to get to his meds when he fell out of bed.

When Edward was sick, I always slept lightly so I could hear him if he woke up in pain or otherwise needing someone. How many times in the past had I gone to just sit with him or make sure he had what he needed. Sometimes it drove him crazy and he growled at me and snapped and told me he hated me and wanted me to go away, just go away. Sometimes he was just too weak to fight and let me sit and yabber at him until he could fall asleep again.

But I'd always been there. Always. I always heard him before Mom and Dad could. Yeah, sometimes - lot of times - they would wake up too, but I was always there.

The next day, Mom, Dad, and Edward were off to Tacoma for a doctor's visit, and I was off the SEA-TAC to pick up Jasper. The whole way, I was in a pissy mood.

I should have been there for Edward last night. I should have been there for him today.

Mom and Dad told me not to worry. Today's doctor's appointment would result in a hospital visit anyway. No need for all of us to sleep in uncomfortable chairs. That kind of shit drove Edward insane anyway, Dad reminded me. He'd had a hell of a time convincing Bella not to go. He couldn't fight our parents, but he didn't need me adding to that guilt he felt.

Still, guilty or not, I knew the kid was scared. I was one of the few people who could pester him into distraction.

So when I saw Jasper and my heart did a little lurchy thing, it pissed me off.

When he told me about his Christmas with his parents and how things between them were still "tense as all get out" and I smiled because sometimes his little Southernisms were so damn adorable and frowned because his parents were being idiots about the whole him wanting to move on thing and then I was really pissed off because I did not have the fucking room in my head to be concerned about him right now.

It was a long drive.

We got to the house, and I stormed upstairs to my room, knowing I was being a shitty host and an even worse friend but fuck. I couldn't deal.

Especially because there was this niggling thought in the back of my head that we had the house to ourselves and that made me...

Giddy.

And guilty because I was giddy.

And confused because I was giddy.

Why couldn't I push this back like usual? Why?

He touched my shoulder to stop my pacing. I didn't even realize I was pacing until he did it.

"Get the fuck off me," I snarled at him, shoving him away.

I knew I was out of line. I didn't even know what possessed me. My thoughts were all erratic, and I couldn't deal at all, not at all.

He looked stricken. "Emmett, it's just me."

"I know it's just you!" I wasn't shouting. I was fucking roaring. What the fuck was wrong with me, and why couldn't I stop it. "You're just a fucking dick, insisting on being here. You know that?"

"I just want to help you," he said quietly, gently.

I could see it in his eyes, too. He was genuine. He wasn't trying to drive me so insane. I knew it.

His pretty, pretty face was just... etched with sympathy, tenderness.

It made me... too many things. Too many things I didn't know how to deal with.

It took two big steps for me to be right up in his face, like right in his face. "Don't you get it?" I shouted. He cringed back a little but otherwise didn't move. And fuck, I wanted him to move, but I didn't. My whole entire body was tensed for... something. "I can't think when you're here. I'm trying to help Mom and Dad. I'm trying to help Edward, but I keep thinking of you."

It took me a second to realize I was pressing forward and he was stepping back. I didn't realize it until he had no where left to go. He was pressed up against my bookshelf so hard it must have hurt his back, but his eyes were locked on mine.

Fuck. Pretty eyes. Such pretty eyes.

"My little brother may die!" I ranted at him but really, I was trying to remind myself what was important. "He's suffering every g'damn day and all I can think about is... is..."

I kissed him.

Hard.

Harder than before even.

I barely heard the clatter of books falling off my shelf onto the ground. Jasper's hands were scrambling to find a hold. I wanted them on me, against my back, on my hips... anywhere.

Grabbing the front of his shirt, I hauled him away from the shelves, pivoting. I stumbled back a few steps, still holding onto his shirt, stilled kissing him. I was so off balance, we both tumbled onto the bed.

Good, something inside me said.

Good?

This wasn't good.

But, fuck. It was. It really was.

What was good was the little moan at the back of his throat. And the way it felt when his body went from tense to that really good kind of wiggly underneath me.

Why did it feel so good? Why?

To outrun the whys, I threw myself into what I was doing with gusto, chasing the good feeling. His hands were in my hair, his leg hitched up around mine, and I could feel his cock through his jeans where our legs were pressed together.

Fuck.

So hot.

Who the fuck knew what I was doing? Certainly not me. But suddenly, some of those images that had been flickering through my head... Well, the idea of making them reality was...yeah. I needed to do it. I needed to.

My hands were down between us in the next instant, running over his body, cupping him between his legs.

Warm. Hard.

He gasped, throwing his head back and breaking our kisses. I went for his neck. The stubble on his skin was rough against my lips. It was...

Awesome. Fucking hot.

I rubbed him between his legs and sucked a little on his neck.

"Emmett," he groaned.

The sound of my name when he moaned it like that... holy hell.

"Emmett, you can't." He gasped again. My fingers were fumbling at his fly. "You... you don't want this."

"Shut up," I growled. He could moan my name if he wanted, that was so fucking hot it was ridiculous, but I didn't want to think about anything else, g'dammit. "Shut up." I kissed his lips again and he whimpered into my mouth as he kissed me back.

In the meantime, I'd finally gotten his zipper down and got my hand down his pants.

"Emmett!"

He was hot and smooth and hard in my hands. Wow. Fucking, wow.

"Emmett, stop. Really. Stop."

The urgency, the hint of panic in his voice, finally got my attention. I lifted my head, and I was instantly fucking disgusted with myself.

Jasper's eyes were wide and the emotion in them hectic. His whole face was flushed. His hair and clothes were rumpled from my hands, his lips all swollen from my kisses. His hands were above his head, gripped so tight around a pillow that his knuckles were white.

I was  _that_  asshole.

What the fuck gave me the right to touch him like that, anyway? Just because he liked dudes, that made it okay? And he told me to stop once, and I didn't. Once should have been all it took.

Mom and Dad raised me better than that.

"Fuck." I rolled off him, staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. I wouldn't have blamed him if he scampered away from me as soon as my weight was off him.

What the fuck was wrong with me? I'd been pinning him underneath me at my own fucking whim for a month now and never once had I asked him if it was okay, what I was doing.

"I'm sorry." My voice was shaking. Fuck. I wanted to cry. My head was spinning, and I really wanted to cry. I was so, so sorry about so much more than I had words for.

The bed shifted and I felt rather than saw Jasper settle on his side next to me. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." I was growling again, but without anger this time. This time I was trying to be tough because really I was scared. And guilty. And ashamed.

"Shhh," Jasper soothed. He was running his fingers through my hair again. "It's okay," he repeated. "Just lay down here with me. You look so tired, Em."

I was tired. I was really tired. Weary. Thinking of my parents, and Edward, and Jasper, and everything, I was really fucking tired.

"Just sleep."

Those words relieved me from the burden of thought. I slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks so much to dizzygrl28 and barburella. MWAH.
> 
> And thanks to all of you for your thoughtful words.
> 
> Believe it or not, we're nearing the end of our little tale. I feel compelled to warn you. From where I sit right now, it'll be less than 5 chaps, I'd say.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, I'm going to try to see if I can finish this story by the end of the week. Personal challenge. We'll see how it goes.

_**~Jasper~** _

I didn't recall when I'd ever been as relieved as when Emmett finally fell asleep. Once his breathing evened out, I rolled onto my back next to him on the bed and closed my eyes tight.

Suddenly, I had Agent Scully from  _The X-Files_ speaking in my head.

_"Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with_ _._ _"_

Well, right on, Agent Scully. The switch was fucking flicked, and all the things I'd been trying to so fucking hard to deny I wanted, I suddenly couldn't stop thinking about.

But easy for her to say. Her stupid ass partner was head over heels in love with her and...

And I was thinking about fictional characters so I wouldn't have to think about the man sleeping next to me. It wasn't working. It wasn't working at all.

That was why I had to stop him. With him on top of me, reaching for me, touching me like that, I was pushed to an edge. 'Cept it wasn't like those normal ledges where you peered off the side and there were jagged rocks and churning rivers or some such shit. No, the chasm I was looking into was filled with wonderful things.

This was the man who'd always looked out for me when there was no one else - not even Peter. He'd been there for me, and he understood me like no one ever had. He'd stood in my shoes. Despite the fact we had nothing in common except that we knew what it was like to be the healthier of two siblings, he'd become my best friend.

I loved his humor, his smile, the constant sparkle of mischief in his eyes that I'd missed so much since his brother had gotten sick again. I loved his smirk, the dimples that littered his face, and that his head was covered in silky curls that sometimes made him look like a giant toddler.

I loved that though he was laid back and always joking, he was still serious enough and smart enough that he was brilliant at school.

I loved his sense of compassion, his loyalty.

I loved him.

I was in love with him.

I stopped him from touching me like that for so many reasons. The first was that he was obviously erratic and conflicted. I'd never seen Emmett quite as undone as he had been every since he picked me up from the airport. Tension just radiated from him, and his eyes were narrowed - so different from the man I knew.

The way he got right up in my face, I was almost scared he was going to hit me. My brain was all sorts of chaotic, seeing as I did feel threatened, but at the same time there were the words he was saying.

He couldn't stop thinking about me. Me.

So yeah. I had to stop him, because he was out of control. Maybe he thought he wanted these things right in the moment, but he was so close to breaking with all that was going on with his brother. I didn't want to be the cause of his nervous breakdown.

But my motivations weren't entirely altruistic. It was right about then I realized that my kisses, the way my body was responding to his, my leg wrapping around him even, were starting to mean something else, something more.

I realized I was about to give him my heart, make all of this about what I felt for him.

And when he rolled away from me, pretending whatever happened between us hadn't happened like he always did - like  _we_ always did - it was going to shatter me.

As it was, lying beside him, I could hardly breathe. I was trying to beat back what I wanted. I wanted to mold myself to his side, wrap my arms around him, and never have to let go. I wanted to wake him in a few hours with lazy kisses. Calm kisses. Kisses that weren't tinged around the edges with desperation, with wanting to forget.

I wanted something I was fair certain I couldn't have.

My throat was so tight it was painful, and my heart felt too constricted in my chest. I just couldn't get enough air in my lungs. Weight. It was a weight pinning me down. Heartache.

Emmett shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his side toward me. His arm slung out, settling with his palm on my chest over my aching heart. He snuggled closer, his lips ticking the side of my face. "Baby," he mumbled.

Some idle part of me wondered who he was dreaming of. Most of me, though, remembered when I gave him that blow job, how he'd stroked my hair and called me baby. I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder if he was dreaming about me.

Having him curled up against me forced the darkness away, replacing it with a giddiness that had my lips turning up at the corners. Tentative, I put my hand over his. His fingers flexed, tightening around mine. His nose nuzzled against my cheek.

I'd never wanted anything as much as I wanted this to be mine. He was the first thing I could remember wanting for my own since before Lucy died.

I closed my eyes and let myself drift, let myself feel a little happy for just a little while. I let myself imagine that somehow, out of all this mess, maybe Emmett could come to want me this way.

Hell, maybe it wasn't that far off. I knew he cared for me. That much was obvious. And maybe there was something to why it was me he was kissing on and touching.

It couldn't just be convenience, could it? That it was me because I was the one who was always there?

Time got a little blurry around the edges, and when I opened my eyes, he was hovering over me. My smile was sleepy, I was still so tired, but I was content. I felt happy, warm, looking at his face above mine. I reached my hand up, cupping his cheek.

He licked his lips, staring at me with what I thought was longing, but then he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, something had changed.

"Get up, dude. You need to go."

For a long moment, I just blinked at him, sure I'd heard wrong. My brain was slow to wake up, slow to string those words together into a comment that made sense.

He pushed himself to his feet, turning away from me. "I can drive you to the Inn."

Slowly, I got myself vertical, putting on my glasses. Emmett wasn't looking at me at all. His posture was defensive - his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed over his chest. It was his sentinel pose. I'd only seen it rarely and it had never been aimed at me.

"What time is it?" I was still out of sorts, but something wasn't adding up here. Something was making me feel like I was going to be sick any second. Something was making my pulse all thready.

"I um... I don't know. Late? Early? It's not morning yet, but it will be soon."

I let that sink in. "And you want me to go right now?"

"Edward will be upset if he finds you here. He has a hard enough time with us and Bella seeing him so sick."

His words were rote, like he'd practiced them. He'd rehearsed this while I was sleeping.

"You said they weren't coming home until the afternoon," I said calmly. Emmett looked down at his feet. "Are you gonna tell me what's really going on?"

He breathed in, out, in, out. "Come on," he said finally, looking under the desk, presumably for his shoes. "Let me drive you back. And you know, honestly, maybe you should think about going back to the apartment soon. I'm gonna be busy. I shouldn't be ditching my parents and Edward every night just because you're around."

Yeah. I'd always thought a sucker punch to the gut from Emmett would be painful. I didn't know he had the talent to do it without even touching me.

I swallowed hard before I spoke again. "Look, Emmett. I know you think-"

"No, you don't know what I think, okay," he snapped. He finally looked at me then and his eyes... Holy God. His eyes were something so entirely foreign to me. There was something so foreign, so not-Emmett there that I actually took a step back. "I need you gone! I need you out of my life right now."

I flinched, but he wasn't done. He was pacing again, a frantic sort of energy filling the entire room.

"You're confusing the ever loving shit out of me, and I can't deal with it right now." He was clawing at his hair, making it stick out all over the place. "I don't want you to fucking kiss me. I need you to stop touching me, and-"

"Whoa. Whoa. Hold the fuck up. What the hell are you saying? I never kissed you. Not once. Not even the very first time Freshman year." I was defensive. How could I not be? He was making it sound like I took advantage of him.

He growled, clamping his hands over his ears. "I can't be what you are, okay? I can't be like that."

Punctured lungs. He'd punctured my lungs without laying a hand on me. Again, I swallowed hard, this time feeling like that was all that was keeping me from throwing up. "What do you mean you can't be what I am?" My voice was low. With an edge.

"It's not fair, okay?" He was pacing again. "Look, even if Edward does get through this, he'll never be the same. He probably won't be able to have kids. My parents - they want grandkids, you know? I mean. I just can't do this to them. I can't. That's what they depend on. That's the one thing they hold on to. At least they have one kid they don't have to worry about, one kid that's fucking  _normal_."

I couldn't even breathe.

"I can't let you make me like you."

My head was spinning. I felt like I was going to faint.

I felt like I was going to explode.

My brain was scrambling because, logically, I knew he was all over the place and so fucked up. I knew he was going through the mother of all tough times, and it had to be confusing doing what he'd been doing - kissing boys when he was supposed to like kissing girls.

But fucking hell.

He was the one who kissed me. He was the one who instigated it every single time. And did he give a shit when he pretended it didn't happen not a minute later?

Well, he didn't seem to.

And yeah. That hurt every fucking time. It stung like a mother bitch. I tried to pretend it didn't, but really, it seemed like I'd just been storing that shit down deep where I couldn't feel it. But Emmett had just torn that wound right open and stabbed me right through the chest besides.

I felt like I was riddled with holes now - just destroyed.

And pissed.

The silence in the room was deafening. I couldn't even hear for the ringing in my ears.

Standing, I grabbed for my thick jacket and my duffel bag. I shoved my feet into my shoes without bothering to find my socks. I had to get the fuck out of there.

Emmett didn't say another word, standing silent except for his sharp breaths. He didn't move or look at me as I stormed out his door, but the second my feet hit the stairs, I heard him swear.

"Jasper! Wait."

I felt his hand on my arm, and I lost it. "Don't you fucking touch me!" I wrenched my shoulder out from under his grasp, glaring up at him. Holy fuck, if I'd ever been close to flying at someone, it was right now. I wanted to make him hurt the way I was hurting.

I hadn't been so bloodthirsty since I beat up that kid in high school.

Breathing in and out through my nose, I managed to find just enough calm to not throw myself at him. "I wouldn't want you to catch my fucking disease," I snarled, pivoting and continuing down the stairs.

"I didn't mean it like that!" he called following me. "I just-"

"No. Shut the fuck up. Just shut up." I was at the door now, my hand on the handle, but I turned to him again. "You know what? You're right. I need to go. If all I am is your dirty little secret, I need to go."

I was out the door in the next second.

"Where the fuck are you going?" he asked, following. He tried to grab me before I reached the stairs down from the porch, but I yanked my arm away.

"Away from you, just like you want. You don't want to see me? Fine. Wish granted." I shouted this over my shoulder as I hurried toward the treeline. It must have been cold as hell - the wind was howling and the snow was blowing everywhere - but I didn't feel it. My fury kept me more than toasty.

"Jasper, come on." He followed me but I heard him hiss. He was still in his socks and there was snow on the ground. "Just wait. Let me take you. The main road is three fucking miles away. Let me drive you!"

I whirled. He was right on my heels, almost barreling into me. "What? Aren't you afraid I'll have my hands all over you again, because apparently I was the one who started all that shit? It was me who pushed you against the wall, right? It was me who pinned you down, me who put my hands down  _your_ pants. Me who did all of that?"

His eyes were wide, but they narrowed suddenly. "You were the one with my fucking cock in your mouth, asshole."

I pushed right up into his bubble space. "Tell me to my face that I forced myself on you. Tell me."

His mouth snapped shut, his eyes going wide and fearful and guilty. He just stared.

Again, I turned around, heading into the darkness.

He tried to follow me, but he must have hit a branch or something hidden by the snow because I heard him fall. Fucked up as it was, my first instinct was to go back and help him.

I pressed forward because I had to get the hell out of there. Quick. If he got to me again, I wouldn't be able to keep up the anger.

No, of course, the anger was unraveling like thread on a spool that was rolling away, picking up speed as it went. I was trying to outrun what was on the heels of my diminishing fury. I ran so hard my lungs burned and my muscles screamed in protest.

Because I was this fucking close to bursting into tears.

I thought I understood heartbreak after I watched Lucy suffer and die the way she had.

But this was a whole other way to hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I would take it as a kindness if you don't kill me or Emmett. We still have a story left to tell.
> 
> Thanks to barburella and Shug for beta. And thanks to you for coming along with me so far!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wanted to get one more chapter out to you before everyone gets holiday on the brain. I'm gonna try to update again on the 5th.
> 
> Oh, and thanks for not killing Emmett. And I'm sure Jasper appreciated all the hugs.

_**~Emmett~** _

No one had to tell me I was an asshole.

I didn't know what the fuck I'd been thinking. I guess I wasn't thinking. Under normal circumstances, I wasn't what anyone would call eloquent, and I definitely wasn't used to thinking before I spoke. My thoughts had been all tangled up and jumbled, and when Jasper woke up when I was staring at him and put his hand on my face like that, I felt...

Different.

I wanted to kiss him. Not the way I had before, but softly. Soft kisses. Slow, not-leading-to-anything kisses. A kiss just because that was the only way to express what I felt that moment he woke up with hooded, sleepy eyes and that little smile like I was his girl or something.

His guy.

And for a second, that made my heart do that lurchy thing again.

But then I was just...

Stupid. Yeah. I was stupid. So fucking stupid.

After I ran inside for shoes and a jacket, I spent the hours just after dawn trying to figure out where Jasper went. He sure as hell hadn't followed the winding road that led from my house to the main road. Of course I was worried because there was a lot of forest around Forks. If he'd gotten turned around... Well, it was fucking cold outside and the jacket he had on wasn't  _that_ thick.

Not sure what else to do, I drove the streets from my house to the Inn. It wasn't too far, really. Four miles, if he hadn't gotten off course.

Where the fuck was he?

By the time I finally got to the Inn after taking every side street and tromping around in the woods for a while, almost five hours had passed.

Luckily, Maggie - the chick who ran the Inn for Mom when Mom was otherwise occupied - started talking the instant I walked in the door. "Well, hello, Emmett. Are you here to check on Jasper?" She tisked, shaking her head. "Fool boy. You know he came in here pale as a sheet, lips as blue as the sky isn't in Forks?" She laughed at her own joke, and I kind of wanted to shake her.

"Is he okay?" On the one hand, I was relieved as hell. On the other... fuck, what if he had hypothermia or some such shit?

"He's fine. I got some hot coffee in him, gave him some spare blankets and sent him to sleep." She huffed. "I mean, what kind of fool goes for a walk out in this weather. Really?"

Once I confirmed he hadn't been eaten by a bear or something, I felt a little better.

A very little.

I turned around.

"Aren't you going to go see him?" Maggie asked, confused.

I couldn't. Now that I was sure he was fine, I was way too ashamed to show my pathetic face to him again. Maybe that was cowardly - it was definitely cowardly - but I also didn't trust myself not to say something supremely stupid.

Again.

I'd never forget that hurt look on his face as long as I lived. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me?

"Let him rest," I mumbled.

I doubted he wanted to see me anyway. Hell, I didn't want to fucking see me.

But when I got home, Dad called to let me know they were twenty minutes away. I had to put my game face on. My parents would have been so ashamed if they knew the bigoted garbage that had come out of my mouth.

So I pretended everything was normal and swallowed down some lunch so Mom and Dad wouldn't know anything was wrong. For the first time in my life, I wasn't hungry. The food tasted like dirt and every swallow made me want to vomit, but I did it anyway.

Dad said Edward was doing well. It was early in the treatment, so there wasn't much else to say but that. I said I'd take it because well was better than poorly, so there was that.

Edward didn't feel like doing anything other than lying on the couch, so I kept him company. I had some hope the TV would distract me from the fact my head was pounding, and my heart and lungs were being squished flat under the weight of what I'd said and done to my best friend.

I thought I was doing a good job of keeping the fact I was... in a state, as Jasper would say, to myself. Course, there was no such thing as keeping your thoughts to yourself around my way too fucking perceptive little brother.

"You're crying," he mumbled.

"Fuck off. I am not."

"Almost. Your eyes are all red, and you keep blinking."

"Maybe I was hitting the hashpipe. How 'bout that?"

He made a face at me. "You were not."

"Sure 'nuff. I got it from your stash too. You know that's the good shit."

He rolled his eyes, playing with the fringe of the blanket on his lap. "It's not because of me, right?"

Obviously, he wasn't going to drop this. "What have I told you before? You are not the bright little center of my universe, kid."

He was quiet for another minute, and I hoped he'd gotten it out of his system, but no such luck. "Is it about a girl?"

I made an exasperated growling sound. "Jesus fucking Christ. What are you, a mind-reader now?"

His eyebrows shot up. "You're crying over a girl?"

"I'm not. Fucking. Crying."

Silence. For ten fucking seconds. Then, "It's not that Rosalie chick, is it?"

"Fucking A. You're doing this because you know Mom would kill me if I beat you, aren't you?"

He grinned at me.

Grumbling, I crossed my arms and hunkered down on the sofa. "It's not Rosalie," I muttered.

"You really were about to cry, weren't you?" He sounded amazed.

I was pretty sure I was blushing.

"Oh, jeez, Em. You don't have to be embarrassed about crying." He crossed his arms, hunkering down just like I was. "For fucks sake, crying is the least embarrassing thing you've seen me do."

Kid had a point.

I sighed. "I am not trying to be condescending here, but... it's complicated."

At that he looked downright pissed. "Yeah. Whatever," he said darkly, getting into classic Edward sulk mode.

I was just trying to figure out what the fuck I'd done now when Mom came in with Bella right behind her. I watched the light in his eyes flick on, and he started to smile, but then he ducked his head like a puppy being scolded.

Guess I wasn't the only one in trouble today.

But Bella's smile for Edward was, as always, gentle. I didn't even think she noticed I was in the room, so I gave her side a tickle as I went by. Sure enough, she jumped and screamed and turned all sorts of red.

It made me smile.

A little.

Then I left the two of them to their inevitable ooey gooey-ness.

Before I could escape to my room, Mom stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "Are you going out tonight?"

Just like that, I was ready to cry again. I looked away from her quickly because she had that super-Mom sense. She'd figure out everything - everything - just by looking at me, and...

Fuck, the thought made my head spin.

I cleared my throat. "Naw. We kind of overdid it last night." My voice squeaked at the end - squeaked! "So um. Yeah, I think just sleeping tonight would be fine."

Before she could start with her questions - and I fucking knew she had them - I ran up the stairs.

Of course it made things worse. All I could see was him on my bed, sleeping peacefully the way he had been this morning before he woke up and I ruined everything.

When the fuck did I become such a drama whore?

I'd never been so fucking exhausted in my entire life. This shit was exactly why I let things slide off my back. This angst? This fucking drama? I didn't know what to do with it.

But with most things I did, most mistakes I made, I could say I was sorry and be done with it. Everyone was human, and I'd be the first to admit that my tendency to act before I thought got me into trouble.

I'd seriously hurt Jasper though. I'd said things that couldn't be excused with a sincere apology and a good dose of puppy dog eyes.

And I knew... I fucking knew I needed to think about why I'd flipped the fuck out this morning.

Why I'd been kissing Jasper.

Why I wanted to touch him.

Why, even now, even after what I'd done and what I'd said and the look in his eyes as I said it, there was some part of me that was thinking about doing things with him.

"Fuck," I muttered, rubbing my eyes hard.

It was stupid because on the one hand, my brain was so fucking amped up. I felt like I needed to spend the excess energy somewhere. Usually, when I was feeling all restless and needed a good distraction, I was all about hitting the gym, feeling the burn in my muscles and all that jazz.

But my body felt about twenty thousand times heavier than normal.

I must have been a pathetic sight. I was curled up on my side of the bed - my side of the bed? - with my back against the wall, my hood pulled up over my head, my knees drawn up to my chest, just staring at the spot he'd been lying almost 24 hours ago.

Sad.

I was such a sorry son of a bitch, I was driving myself crazy.

When the doorbell rang, I was off my bed like a shot. I needed a distraction - anything.

Of course, when I heard Jasper's voice, I stopped short right where I was in the stairwell. I literally couldn't move. The sound of his voice had me frozen. My face was all clammy with a cold sweat, and my heart was suddenly pounding so hard, I almost couldn't hear what was being said over the thud, thud, thud in between my ears.

"...glad I left the bag now, or else I wouldn't have been able to say goodbye to y'all," Jasper was saying.

There was a pause. "I thought you were staying in town at least until after New Years?" My mother.

My throat got tight, and I felt kind of dizzy.

"No, uh... I think it's better right now if I go back now." He cleared his throat. "I left my bag by the kitchen, so I'll go get it."

I was pressed with my back against the wall, my hands in fists at my side. I was feeling everything and thinking nothing. And I was shaking. Like a fucking leaf. No. I was trembling like a little kid watching a scary movie.

And those tears I'd been trying to deny were at the corners of my eyes all g'damn day long? They were leaking out.

Because he could have told them. He could have marched in here and told them their son was a fucking bigoted prick. He could have told them everything to hurt me as bad as I knew I'd hurt him.

If I had any kind of bravery at all, I'd step out there, at least be man enough to own up to what I did. If nothing else, I owed him that much.

But I couldn't. I couldn't, I couldn't.

If I went out there, I'd start sobbing like a little bitch.

"You look a little piqued." My dad this time, concerned as Jasper's footsteps approached the entry hall again.

"I'm a little under the weather," Jasper said simply.

"Oh, is that why you're going home early?" My mother again, her tone a little brighter.

"Yeah. I don't want to get anyone sick."

Bringing in outside germs was a serious concern for families with loved ones with decimated immune systems. A cold could put Edward in the hospital easily.

It was a good excuse my parents wouldn't question.

"I hope you're not driving home yourself if you're not feeling well." My dad again.

"I've got someone to take care of me. Don't worry, Dr. C."

Alice, of course. I breathed a little easier knowing at least he wouldn't be alone since I couldn't even face him. There was that at least.

When the front door closed, I turned and headed back up the stairs again. Trudging - that's what I was doing. But I was walking up the stairs as quickly as anyone could trudge. My cheeks were already slick, and I could feel more coming. I didn't have any energy left to fight it. I had to get in my room before the misery took over completely.

Maybe I studied being an emo mess from the best. Edward was a champion wallower, but I would have given him a run for his money right about then. I must have been a sight. I was wearing a thick hoody and sweatpants. Every single spare blanket I could find was piled on my bed, and I was huddled -  _huddled_ \- under all of them.

But as many layers as that was, I couldn't seem to get warm. There was a cold right at my center made of ice, and it made my body ache.

I cried. A lot. And then I remembered the last time I cried and how Jasper held me, how his fingers felt running through my hair. I tried to get control of my tears, man up because if my parents or brother caught me this way, they'd be all over me, and they shouldn't have to worry about me.

Then I remembered what Jasper had whispered in my ear. "You can be scared with me." His voice was so gentle my heart broke all over again just remembering it. It had been such a huge relief - that he understood how terrified I was at having to face everything again with Edward, how scared I was that I was going to lose my brother this time.

He held me together. Even after I pounced on him, he took me to bed and held me until I felt like I could breathe again, function.

What the hell had I done?

I turned my head feeling so utterly miserable I couldn't take it. I kept hunching my body tighter and tighter, like maybe I could contain this horrible feeling if I made myself smaller. But it kept growing anyway, getting heavier.

I felt like I was suffocating.

When Mom and Dad knocked on my door, I'd gotten a little control over myself but not much. At least I wasn't crying anymore.

"It's nothing," I mumbled to them. "I just got scared about Edward, that's all."

Maybe I should have felt bad about using my brother's illness as an excuse, but really. After everything else I'd done that day, what was one more thing?

They didn't buy it for a minute. It probably didn't help that my voice sounded dead even to my own ears.

"I know we get involved with Edward, but we're still concerned about you, too. We're still your parents," Mom said, combing my hair back with her fingers like she'd done when I was a little boy. "You can still talk to us, Emmett."

"I think you have enough to deal with," I muttered.

"There's never too much to deal with when it comes to your children," Dad said. "We deal with the cards life hands us, even if it gives us the worst hand when we're least prepared. Really, son. What's going on with you?"

I stared at the ceiling so I wouldn't have to look at them. Part of me wanted so bad to tell them, even though I was terrified. But I was so confused. They were my parents, and part of me wanted to believe they had all the answers like they did when I was a little boy.

But I couldn't tell them all the things going through my head, so I just closed my eyes. "I'm fine. It's really nothing."

I could tell they were reluctant to leave it at that, but what could they do?

Before they left, though, Mom turned back. "I almost forgot. This was on the fridge. Is it from you? It didn't look like your handwriting, but I thought maybe your penmanship had gotten better over the years."

She was trying to tease me, but I was looking at the yellow post-it in her hand. I shook the blankets off my arm quick and snatched it from her, recognizing Jasper's handwriting instantly.

"This is mine," I said simply, staring at it. My voice was almost a whisper because my throat was so tight, I almost couldn't speak.

Thankfully, Mom and Dad got the hint and left. It was good because I started crying again the second I heard the snick of the door closing.

Quickly, I wiped the stupid tears away so I could read the note again, my heart expanding and aching all at once.

Three simple words that gave me such hope, and yet made me feel so fucking low because how could he still say them after everything I'd put him through?

_I'm still here._

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Huge thanks to Twilightmundi for the impromptu beta. Thanks to barburella for being awesome and posting all my stuff on AO3 so I have a back up.
> 
> Have a happy Fourth of July, and I'll see you on the Fifth. I hope.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, my lovelies. I hope you had a wonderful Fourth. Back to the angst, shall we?

_**~Jasper~** _

The way I saw it, there was really no choice. Yeah. Emmett had been a class A prick, and it was going to be hard - really hard - to forgive and forget some of the things he'd said. But...

But he was still my Emmett. He was scared and scattered. I wasn't going to forget all the good things he was, everything he'd done for me, and how much I cared for him, just because he'd freaked out once.

This is what I kept telling Alice.

When I first called her, I was bordering on hysterical and delirious. My heart was broken, and to make matters worse, I'd been lost in the woods for hours before I got back to a place with cell signal. Saying I wasn't thinking clearly was an understatement.

I'd been blue-lipped and half frozen when I stumbled into the Inn. Maggie poured some coffee down my throat. I climbed in bed and shivered until I fell asleep, and when I woke up, Alice was there.

Alice was so pissed off, she had a mind to march right over to the Cullen house, pull Emmett out by his ear and let him have it. I'd never seen her so hopped up and furious. I managed to convince her just to take me home. Even if Emmett did deserve a swift ass-kicking, his parents and brother didn't need the drama.

Maggie told me, though, that Emmett had been by, that he looked a little frantic when she'd seen him. It made my heart feel just a little lighter because I knew he must have been scared for me. I was a little abashed when I thought of it. In the moment, I'd just needed to be away from him as quickly as possible - before I broke down, which I absolutely did. But in retrospect, after spending nearly five hours in the biting cold of a Forks winter, it was probably not so wise to go running off into the woods.

Her words snapped me out of my self-pitying funk to a degree. That was when I realized he was still my Emmett, and the reason I'd come to Forks in the first place still stood. He had no one looking out for him.

I wasn't stupid enough to believe I could do it now - at least, not the way I had been. My heart was still laying in pieces at my feet. I still felt perforated and riddled with holes.

And obviously, whatever was in Emmett's head that was making him pounce on me in the first place wasn't helping matters.

Still, I had to let him know the door was open.

I talked Alice in to driving me to the Cullens' house. Anyway, I did need my bag, right? And when I was there, I left a note I hoped he'd find, relieved when Esme and Carlisle said they thought he was asleep.

Then I let Alice take me back to her place. My place just felt too big and empty without him.

_**~Emmett~** _

I must have read that note a thousand times. I fell asleep clutching it, and when I woke up again as the dawn broke, I read it a few hundred more. Pathetic as that was, it became like a ritual over the next few days.

My thoughts were so muddled, I could hardly concentrate. I didn't know what fucking way was up.

Besides knowing that I had to make it up to him in a big way - someday - I tried to shrug everything else off. I tried to forget for now, because it didn't matter while I was with my parents and brother. I wasn't going to open that can of worms when I had them to worry about.

Course, that didn't stop my family from trying to figure out what the hell was wrong. They kept trying to get me to talk. It was making me twitchy as all hell.

"I've just never seen you get so worked up about a girl," Edward said, trying to wheedle me into talking about it.

"Whatever. Dude, what was with that look you gave Bella the other day anyway? You looked guilty as hell. You do something to piss her off?" See how the motherfucker liked it when the shoe was on the other foot.

He ducked his head, looking down at his hands. "I uh... I said some really nasty things to her."

Three days ago, I would have given him shit about saying nasty things to a pretty girl he was in love with. Now I didn't have room to talk. "Why'd you do that?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I just didn't want her to have to deal with me. It's not fair. One of us should have a normal high school experience."

I winced at the word normal, remembering Jasper's face. Whenever I thought about Jasper my throat would get tight and my heart would start to beat right out of my chest. I'd cried more in the last three days than I had in my entire life. Fucking tears.

"So what did you do?" I asked quickly, trying to stop that line of thought before it started.

"I told her I didn't want her," Edward admitted in a shaky, far-away tone. "I pushed her away." He wasn't looking at me but staring off into space. "I don't really understand it. I said such stupid things to her, mean things. And no matter what I said, she kept coming back. Why did she do that, Em? I still can't figure it out. I gave her every reason to leave."

"Not too hard to figure out." I had to smile at the kid then because he had a lot of shit going on in his life, but he'd found himself an amazing girl. "That's what people do when they love-"

Oh.

Oh.

_**~0~** _

Days passed.

On New Years, Mom and Dad invited Bella and her father, Chief of Police Charlie Swan, over for the usual festivities.

I didn't know what was worse, New Years or Christmas. The fucking house was full of the things we were all thinking but not saying.

The upside of the day was at least I knew no one would be asking me what was wrong. That was an unspoken rule, because what was wrong was that we were all feeling this huge hole Edward would leave if he wasn't there with us next year. Never underestimate the weight a hole could leave on your shoulders, your heart... just everything.

I could hardly roll out of bed that day. The blankets felt like they were the heaviest set of weights I'd ever pressed. It was exhausting, constantly pushing back thoughts I couldn't deal with, trying to change the subject in my own head. I just didn't have any energy left to fight. So when thoughts crept into my head, going over the previous year and wondering what next year would bring, I had no defenses left.

I wallowed.

Again.

Jesus fucking Christ. How did Edward do this all the time? I was a go with the flow kind of guy, but I was so tangled up in my thoughts lately, I felt lost in my own head. It was bizarre, and frustrating, and...

Yeah, tiring.

And when I thought about Edward not making it one more year, when I thought about him fading away to nothing, I just writhed under my covers. Breathing was painful. Just  _being_ was painful. I couldn't outrun my thoughts. I was pinned to the bed, pinned where I was; forced to just let those damning thoughts assault me.

In all the chaos in my head, grasping for something,  _anything_ other than thoughts of my little brother dying, I suddenly remembered something Jake and I had talked about last summer.

His dad died suddenly last summer. I went to the funeral, and a couple weeks later, when I saw Jake again he looked better than I expected.

We were sitting around a bonfire on First Beach, alone for a minute, when I asked him how he was doing it. I'd been trying to imagine how I would cope if my dad died like that, and I couldn't figure how he was holding himself together so well.

_"It's Lizzie," he said, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips._

_I blinked. Lizzie was a girl he'd been seeing, his girlfriend officially only in the last four weeks._

_He looked around furtively, scooting closer to me like he didn't want anyone else overhearing. "You have no idea what a difference it makes." His voice was so sincere - not a shred of the usual humor - it kind of startled me. "The whole shoulder to cry on thing? She gets me through it. She's my fucking rock, Em. I'd fall over if it weren't for her; I'd absolutely lose my mind._

_"I know we all said there's something to the lone wolf thing, but..." He'd looked up at me, and there was a peacefulness to the way he smiled. "Being in a relationship has its perks, too. She's there, and she's strong when I can't be."_

Just the thought of it made me  _want_ so badly. I liked to think I was a strong guy, but having someone to lean on, just until I could breathe again, would have been so, so good.

A little voice in my head whispered that I'd had that. I fucked it up good and proper, hadn't I.

Under the blankets, I curled up tighter, shutting my eyes and trying to think of something else, but my brain was off and running without my permission.

More and more this was happening. I tried not to let my head settle, but a few things made it out here and there.

If I was forced to acknowledge what was going through my head all those times I kissed Jasper, I could almost figure out why it happened.

Jake had put an image in my head that hadn't been around when Edward was sick the first time.

There were things I wanted that none of my friends could give me.

It would have been such a relief - the bright spot I really needed at that point - to be able to climb in bed with someone for a good cuddle. Everyone needed a good cuddle, right?

Tender lips against my forehead. I kind of loved that.

Kisses like...

Like the way Jasper kissed along my hairline the night after Edward collapsed.

I wanted soft kisses. Softness. Tenderness. Arms around me.

And I wanted all that from him. Jasper specifically.

Every time my will bent, and I took what I wanted without asking if it was okay, it got warped. What I was used to was being physical. Kissing felt good. Sex felt better. The girls I'd been with - it had only ever been about that. Even with Rosalie - who really was just perfect for me - the physical stuff had only ever been just about that: the physical pleasure.

When I kissed Jasper, I tried to make it about that: hot, heat, fast, hard. What I really wanted was slow, soft, tender.

And that scared me so much, I couldn't think about it.

But I also couldn't stop.

I dragged myself out of bed at some point and tried to interact like a human being, but my brain was buzzing. There were so many things I was trying not to think about, I couldn't even hold a conversation. That day, though, New Years Eve, my parents were the same way.

Stilted conversation and forced smiles all around. Happy New Year to us. I'm sure Chief Swan and Bella were completely comfortable.

But somehow, midnight came and there was a moment of lightness. When the clock struck midnight, we all exchanged hugs. But the moment they'd embraced everyone, Edward and Bella turned toward each other. They were both tangled up together on one recliner - the skinny fucks. Neither of them seemed to care that their parents were watching. They kissed - it was so sweet - and then Bella put her lips to his ear, whispering something that made him smile so wide.

Pretty sight.

I wouldn't have teased them then even if I had the energy.

Phones were whipped out then so we could wish friends and extended family a happy new year. Before I could think about what I was doing, I had almost pressed the speed dial for Jasper's line.

My heart twisted and my shoulders slumped. The thought of hearing his voice...

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom and Dad snuggling, her head tucked under his chin while she spoke on the phone with someone.

I closed my eyes and tried not to think about how lonely I felt in a room full of people.

Letting out a long breath, I quickly texted all of my friends - including Jasper - a simple  _Happy New Year!_ and headed up the stairs, back to my room without another word.

_**~0~** _

Days passed, and the haze in my head was only getting worse. I couldn't shake it at all.

I couldn't shake it until I got a call from Rose.

"Emmett? Look, I don't know if someone's already called you, but Jasper collapsed and was taken to the hospital today."

All this time I'd been wishing I could clear my brain of every thought? Well that sure as fuck did it. My thoughts were white. Pure white because it couldn't be. It just couldn't be happening. And my heart skipped three beats.

"Emmett, did you hear what I said?"

I was suffocating. I had to force my tongue to start moving. "What happened? Where is he?"

"I was at the coffee shop. He was working and he just fell over."

Like Edward on Thanksgiving.

Like Edward.

Fuck, no. No. No. No. No.

"He sounded horrible - his breathing I mean. But he was awake when the ambulance got here."

I was already running down the stairs.

"Where, Rose? Where did they take him?"

It was the same hospital Edward was taken to in November.

Edward. Jasper.

Fuck, I couldn't do this. I couldn't take this at all.

Panicking hard, I was tearing through the house, looking for my keys when my dad caught up with me.

"Emmett? What's wrong? What happened?"

"Jasper's sick." My voice was hoarse. It occurred to me my eyes were stinging. Shit. I was going to cry.

Fuck. I didn't care. Nothing mattered. I needed to be in Tacoma. I felt like I could have run there.

"I can't find my keys! I need to go. I need to go right now."

He stood still for a two really tense seconds, just staring at me, and just as I was about to explode at him, he snapped into action.

"Let's go," he said, grabbing the keys to his car. His really fast car.

Despite the panic, I still stared at him. "What?" I just wasn't grasping anything today.

"You're upset. I'm not going to let you drive three hours by yourself when you're this upset," he explained calmly.

"But Edward-"

"Your brother is fine right now. I thought you were in a rush."

I wasn't going to argue with him. Besides, it freed up my hands to try calling Jasper's cell. And when that didn't go through, I called Alice's cell, figuring she'd be with him.

She didn't answer.

In fact, the way the phone cut off at two rings made me think she was sending my calls to voicemail.

"Fuck," I snarled at the phone, bouncing my leg restlessly from the passenger seat.

The hospital wouldn't give me any information, of course, because I wasn't family.

"Calm down," Dad said. "Just take a deep breath."

He tried to tell me it could be a million other things besides what I feared. I had to tell him to just shut up. I couldn't take it.

I spent the whole car ride, the whole three hours, so fucking tense. I was going out of my skin. Every other thought was please, please, please don't let this be happening to him. I couldn't deal with the fear of losing my brother and losing my... my...

I couldn't lose him.

What if I couldn't tell him how sorry I was for everything? Just everything?

What if I had to see him deteriorate and waste away like Edward?

What if he wouldn't let me be there for him?

I couldn't deal with any of it.

When we finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, I was out the door as soon as the car had slowed down to a reasonable speed. I ran.

I had to struggle not to yell at the security guard who gave me a visitor's sticker before he told me the floor and room number.

Skipping the elevator, I went straight for the stairs.

I had exactly one glimpse of Jasper before Alice - her face furious - was pushing me away from his room.

Fuck, he looked like death. He was pale and wearing an oxygen mask.

He looked like Edward.

Fuck.

"No. You are not going to upset him. Get out," she hissed under her breath, pushing me away.

Or she was trying.

She was a little thing, and I apparently had no problem using my strength if it meant I could get back to Jasper's room. "I need to see him, Alice. Is he-"

"No, you don't need to see him." She glanced over where a nurse was glaring at us warily. "Follow me. Right now." I took another step toward his room but her hand on my arm stopped me. "Right now, Emmett Cullen. They're giving him a breathing treatment anyway, so if you try to get in, you're just going to end up making a scene."

"What's going on?" I demanded, following her to the elevator which she all but shoved me into.

"I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here after what you've done to him." Her arms were crossed and for being so fucking small, she sure looked fierce.

She wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise. When the elevator dinged open she was still ranting at me, and I was shrinking backward with every word. With everything she said, I got smaller and smaller and she got taller and louder until we were outside and she was yelling at me.

"You don't even deserve to look at him after what you've been doing. Who the hell do you think you are? You're a selfish dick, using him the way you have been, using him and not giving a shit how he feels. I'm not letting you do it again, you understand that? Do you have any idea what your stupid rant did to him, do you?"

"Alice," I groaned finally. I already felt lower than pond scum, but Jesus Christ, I was going to go insane if I didn't know what was going on. "Please. Please tell me what's wrong with him."

"This is your fault!" she shouted. "He's in here because of what you did."

My stomach twisted. "I did this to him?" My voice was almost gone, my throat was so tight. "He's here because of me?"

So many scenarios went through my head, one worse than the next. Did I hurt him that badly? "What did I do? Alice." My words were choked. "What happened? Please tell me."

"Don't pretend like you actually care what happens to him."

"Please. I need to know."

"Yeah, that's what you're all about. What you need. If you have a chance, you'll just stomp on his heart again because you need what? More kisses? A distraction?" She got up on her tiptoes, pointing a finger in my face. "Is that why you finally kicked him to the curb? Because he wouldn't let you go as far as fucking him? You're a fucking scumbag, you know that?"

"You're not telling me anything I don't know! And of course that's not what happened. I know I'm an asshole, but that wasn't the reason I did what I did!"

"There's no excuse for what you did."

"I didn't say there was!" I dropped down to my knees. I was that desperate. "Alice. Please. Please tell me what's wrong. Please."

She stood there just breathing for a second, the fire going out of her eyes. I must have looked so pathetic, but I didn't care. I was waiting for her to deal a death blow.

She sighed. "The doctors think he developed a touch of hypothermia when he was out in the forest a week and a half ago." She glared at me. "It left him vulnerable, and he got sick. He's been pretty sick the last week, but he must have been hiding or ignoring how bad it was." She crossed her arms. "He certainly ignored me when I told him to see a doctor about how bad his cough was getting. He has pneumonia now."

All my breath left me in a big whoosh. I was so relieved I wanted to laugh. Pneumonia was serious, but it wasn't deadly, probably. Not for a young man.

But I couldn't laugh because Alice was right. It was my fault. He shouldn't have been out there.

"Is he going to be all right?" My voice was a whisper.

"He'll be fine, and you should stay away from him."

She walked away then, leaving me on my knees on the cold ground, trying to stop my head from spinning so crazily. I put my hands over my eyes, swallowing big gulps of freezing air.

Reeling, that's what I was. I was relieved that he wasn't sick like Edward, but I hated so much that it was my fault. And everything Alice had said... yeah, I'd thought about it, but none of it really sunk in until right then.

I couldn't run from what I'd done - or why - anymore.

When I felt a hand on my head, I jumped, startled out of all my self deprecating thoughts. I looked up to find my dad standing in front of me and I knew...

He'd heard everything. Or he'd heard enough.

He knew.

I couldn't look him in the eyes. I looked down at the ground, ashamed, scared, confused - everything all at once. My breath was coming quicker - so quick I was starting to see spots. My lungs ached.

"Shh, shh. Emmett. It's okay. Just breathe"

I must have closed my eyes again because I felt rather than saw him get to his knees in front of me, and he put his arms around me. "I'm sorry." I didn't even recognize my own voice. I didn't even know what the fuck I was apologizing for. "I'm so sorry."

"You're fine, son. Just fine. You're fine, and I love you."

My whole body felt weak. I leaned into him, like I wasn't bigger than he was, like I was a little tiny boy again. I was sure as hell shaking like one. I buried my head at his neck and I wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you have a moment, wish a happy birthday to my gorgeous girl, Barburella. Mwah. Love you, baby. I dedicate this angsty chapter to you and everything you do for me.
> 
> Thanks to twitina for beta help.
> 
> Soooooo. How are we all feeling?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ***IMPORTANT*** Make sure you read last chapter. Alerts are sucking at the moment.
> 
> This chapter is un-beta'ed so all mistakes are 100% my fault. I can't blame anyone. Eeeeps.

_**~Emmett~** _

It wasn't just weeping. I was straight up blubbering. I should have been embarrassed. We were outside a busy hospital for fucks sake. People had to be staring.

I couldn't care though. I didn't have the energy to care anymore. I  
was so spent.

Guess I had to admit I wasn't the strong one anymore. I wasn't good for anything except crying lately. Useless.

"Come on, son. Let's get inside, okay?"

Dad's voice. I was clinging to him still. I didn't have any fight left in me, so I would have followed his instructions even if he told me to jump right off a cliff. I stood up and almost fell. My legs were like jello. Dad kept his arm around me though. He held me up.

He guided me inside to a quiet corner of the lobby and pushed me down into a seat. I fell forward, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, fingers in my hair.

I was a fucking wreck, like pieces of me were scattered everywhere, all jagged and charred.

Dad just sat there beside me, rubbing my back until my breathing evened out. I was still shaking, but at least I could think again.

Although, that was a blessing and a curse in and of itself, wasn't it.

"Talk to me, Emmett."

I had to swallow really hard before I could figure out how to speak again. "He was outside for a long time because..." I sucked in a breath. Really. He'd raised me better than this, and I knew it. "I, um. I said some really offensive things to him, and he took off."

"Offensive? Like what?" Dad probed. I couldn't answer. When almost a minute passed, he started guessing. "Was it about his sexuality?"

I winced. Yeah, it wasn't ever not gonna be awkward to hear your dad use words like that in any situation.

But I nodded.

He was quiet for a long time. "Emmett, are you gay?"

And there it was.

My head swam, and my heart started pounding painfully hard against my chest. "I have no fucking idea," I finally said.

"Talk to me," he encouraged again after a moment. "You know I'm not going to be less proud of you, no matter what, right?"

"Yeah." I exhaled slowly. "I know that, Dad."

And I did. Absolutely. That was never a question for me.

I felt a little better. A little.

"It might be a long story," I muttered.

"I've got nowhere else to be," Dad said.

Everything in me wanted to run again, just brush it off. It didn't matter.

But I'd put my best friend in the hospital, and despite my best efforts, I knew Mom and Dad had been worried sick about me for over a week. What was the point? What was the point in trying to push everything to the back of my mind when it was already out there?

No going back now, anyway. I hadn't been able to push everything back since Jasper left. This is what they called facing the music.

Shit. This was going to be hard.

"Can we go to the cafeteria?" I asked. My voice was oddly high pitched even in my own head. Weird. I cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together.

"Of course."

Dad didn't say anything while we walked. It gave me some time to try to organize my thoughts.

Being in the hospital didn't help matters any. I hated hospitals so much. And this hospital. I'd spent way too much time here. I'd had many stilted conversations in this cafeteria, hanging out with Mom or Dad, trying to pretend we were hungry when Edward was upstairs getting poked and prodded and generally going through hell.

I found the hot chocolate and made myself as big a cup as I could find. I remembered how Jasper took care of all of us on Thanksgiving, brought us food and drinks in the hospital back in Forks.

Dad paid for our drinks and waited patiently. I started ripping my napkin to shreds, strip by strip.

Not knowing where else to start, I told him about Demetri first. He'd kissed me , and I didn't know what to think about it.

When Dad sucked in a huge breath, I stopped talking, looking up at him. He looked green, and I didn't know how to react to that. Was he disgusted? Was he-

"That was your Sophomore year of high school?" he asked.

I nodded slowly.

"Since then? Why, Emmett? Why didn't you tell us? Why would you keep it bottled up for all these years?"

"It didn't really happen like that," I defended, stirring my hot chocolate around and around. "After Edward got sick, it just wasn't important. Nothing else was important." He looked tortured - that was definitely where Edward got it from - and I felt like a dick. "This was a bad idea. I'm sorry. This is exactly why I didn't say anything. I'm just stressing you out over nothing."

"It's not nothing."

"Dad, Edward-"

"Isn't my only son." Dad shook his head. "Edward is sick, and obviously, some of his needs are going to take precedence on any given day. But that doesn't mean you should go ignored. Have I ever given you that impression?"

I looked down at the table.

"Oh," he said softly. "I did, didn't I? The parent/teacher conference."

I was actually a little shocked he remembered that. About a month after Edward got sick the first time, my grades plummeted. One of my teachers, my English teacher actually, called Dad and Mom. He said that he was trying to stop a problem before it started. I'd had good grades up to that point.

Dad was furious. I don't think I'd ever seen him that mad before or since. He snapped at me when we got to the car. " _Do you realize I had to break my promise to your brother to be here? Edward is scared to death about the procedure he has to go in for today, and I promised to be there with him, but I can't. I'm here because you decided to stop doing your homework? What is it Emmett? Your mother and I don't have the time to breathe down your neck about it, and you can't take a shred of responsibility for yourself?_."

"You were right, then," I said quickly. "It was stupid to let my grades get out of hand."

Dad was already shaking his head. "I wasn't right. It doesn't matter. I knew then, I've always known, that I shouldn't have talked to you like that. It was just the worst possible timing..." Again he shook his head and looked at me with resolute eyes. "No excuses. I should have apologized to you immediately. It wasn't fair to you at all, and I'm sorry."

"Dad." I groaned. "Don't... Don't do that, okay? I was fine. I  _am_ fine."

"This is something you should have been able to come to us about." He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. "I knew it was hard on you. You have no idea how many times I wished there were more hours in the day. Even now that you're grown, it's not fair."

He laughed completely without humor. "And you know, when your mother and I went to support groups, the other parents talked about this a lot. Their other children, their healthy children, I mean. Their kids acted out, got into drugs. One mother? Her daughter got pregnant at 13. Thirteen!" He sighed. "I used to think we must be doing okay. You were always so calm about everything."

"I'm fine," I repeated.

"It just scares me what else we could have missed."

"Well, I didn't have a baby while you weren't paying attention. I promise."

He huffed, his lips turning up in a sad smile. "I've gotten off the subject again, turned the discussion back on me." He leaned forward over the table. "I'm here now. Talk to me. Tell me everything, and I promise I'll be here for you."

I didn't know how much I needed to hear those words until he said them.

I told him everything.

_**~Jasper~** _

I felt like all kinds of hell.

It had been a week and a half of hurt in so many ways, and I hadn't really been able to breathe since I fought with Emmett, I really didn't notice how bad my lungs were getting. I guess I was distracted.

I hated hospitals. Being the one in the bed didn't make it easier. It was frustrating, but I was so tired anyway.

The doctor said sleep was the best medicine anyway, so I tried to sleep as often as possible. My stupid lungs didn't make it easy, what with the coughing fits and the gasping. But in between that? I kept my eyes closed. Honestly, the whole experience was a little surreal, too, because I was running such a high fever, my whole head was woozy.

That first night, I was thrashing a little, a bit out of my head.

I thought I imagined Emmett was there. I woke up feeling like I remembered his hand on my arm, in my filthy, sweat damped hair. Wishful thinking, or so I thought until I saw a post-it note stuck to the side of my bed right at eye level.

It was the note I'd left him except it was obviously rumpled from wear, like he'd held it in his fingers over and over again. It had to be stuck to the beef with medical tape because the sticky back had long ago run out of stick. And there was an additional line under my 'I'm still here'.

_**I am, too.** _

"Ah, you're up!" A cheerful voice caught my attention, and I looked away from the note to see a little, blond haired nurse come in. She looked vaguely familiar. The nurses tended to introduce themselves but fuck if I was conscious enough to remember.

"I have a bone to pick with you," she informed me as she started to take my vitals and all that jazz.

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Ugh. My voice rattled with all the phlegm. Lovely.

She clucked at me, looking apologetic. "You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend. You just let me flirt with you, make a fool of myself, for nothing."

I blinked at her stupidly. "My apologies, ma'am," I mumbled through a coughing fit.

"Ma'am." She scoffed, shaking her head. "I'll forgive you for that one because I'm a sucker for a Southern accent."

"So, uh... My boyfriend?" The word sounded awkward to say.

"My goodness. He's a handsome fellow, isn't he? So big. And the muscles?" She made an appreciative noise. "He's worried about you, tiger. He looks like a big ol' worry wart. Poor thing looked like he'd been crying all day."

My eyebrows near about shot up off my head.

Emmett? A worry wart? Crying? For me?

That brought on a coughing fit. The nurse helped me sit up and spit up. Ew.

"How did you know he was my boyfriend?" I rasped when I was settled back against my pillows again.

She cocked her head, looking at me with a soft smile. "He didn't even notice I was in the room for the longest while. He was looking at you and talking to you while you slept. It's not typical to see friends or brothers touch each other like that, so..." She shrugged as if to say it was obvious.

"The doctor should be in in another hour to check on you," she promised before she left.

When I was alone, I turned the post-it note over and over in my hands, wondering if he really had been here last night.

Before I could get very far down that road, though, Momma and Dad came through my door, and things got a little chaotic.

They were trying to be calm, but there was a frantic spark in both their eyes. They were jumpy as all get out. When I coughed, when I wheezed, when I gasped... they were all over me. I had to call the nurse to get in here and explain everything to them.

Emmett and I had often commiserated on this point. Having a sick kid had made our parents super vigilant of any illness. He told me how Esme nearly had a heart attack when she spotted a series of bruises around his knees once. Momma got all kinds of worried some months back when I told her over the phone I had a stomachache.

I could dig it. Both Edward and Lucy's illnesses had started out as such mundane things.

So yeah. Me being hospitalized? That was a crisis.

I was too tired to put up much of a defense to their clucking and panicking. Luckily, the nurse was able to get the doctor in the room before they could go out of their minds. Then they were grilling the poor woman on any and every potential side effect.

"Mr. Whitlock, Mrs. Whitlock, really." The doctor held her hands up, palms out, trying to get their attention. "There's nothing to be worried about. In most cases, pneumonia requires only outpatient treatment. The only reason we admitted him was because he was nearing the point of exhaustion. It was just a precaution. In fact, it looks like we may be able to release Jasper later this evening."

"This evening? That's far too soon," Momma protested.

I tried to interrupt, but a coughing fit got the better of me.

"You see? He sounds just terrible."

Rolling my eyes, I let myself zone out again, thinking about what the little nurse had said, wondering if Emmett was really around.

If he was, he didn't appear that day. Then again, my parents would scare just about anyone away. They hovered.

There was a lot of good that came from it, though - surprisingly enough.

Things had been awkward between me and my parents for a long while now. I didn't realize how much I'd missed them paying such attention to me until it was gone. It was closer than I'd felt to them in well over a year.

The doctor explained it was going to take me some weeks to recover, and advised me I'd sure as hell better take it easy. Dad wanted me on a plane home where they could take care of me. Momma was in agreement.

There was a time when I would have acquiesced to their wishes straight away. There was a time when I would have done anything to quiet the anxiety I saw in their eyes. There was even a time I would have felt so guilty. If I'd been taking care of myself, I wouldn't have gotten sick and they wouldn't have been worried.

As it was, I felt like an idiot. If I hadn't been in drama mode I could have just survived the awkward drive from Emmett's house to the Inn and there wouldn't be crap rattling around in my lungs.

But I didn't feel guilty, just living my life.

"I don't want to go to Texas." Cough, cough, cough. Hack, hack. "I just want to get home."

Momma frowned. "That's what we're saying, sugar. Come home with us."

"But my home is here," I explained patiently. I was worrying the post-it note in between my fingers again. 'I'm still here'.

Here was where I belonged.

It was dad who spoke first. "Compromise then." He smiled. It wasn't a hundred percent sincere, but it wasn't fake either. "Your mother and I will get a hotel nearby and help you out for a few days."

"You don't have to do that."

"Let us take care of you, baby," Momma said.

Compromise, right?

I wasn't used to the idea of them taking care of me. They took care of Lucy, and I took care of myself. I looked out for them, not the other way around.

But maybe that was what they were trying to do: remember what it was like to be my parents.

I sighed. "Yeah. Okay," I agreed softly.

_**~0~** _

But when it came time to leave - which was actually the next morning - Emmett suddenly appeared at my door.

He looked nervous. I felt nervous. My stomach was twisting and my heart was pounding and it wasn't helping my cough at all.

Shit. The nurse was right, though. His eyes were red as hell. His body language was completely un-Emmettlike - just slumped and dejected. His eyes were darting around like he expected someone to yell at him, and his hands were shoved deep in his pockets.

He stuttered when he said hello.

Momma crossed her arms. "Emmett," she said, nodding cordially.

Maybe she and Dad were ready to start forgiving me for wanting to get on with my life, but they weren't too fond of Emmett after what he pulled with them.

For me.

My eyes were frozen on his and his on mine. I didn't know how to feel.

He ducked his head first, clearing his throat. "I, um. Do you need a ride home?" he asked awkwardly.

"We got him," Dad said quickly, crossing his arms over his chest.

I wheezed, but I managed to speak without hacking for once. "Let him take me home. I'll meet you there."

"Jasper." Momma sounded exasperated.

"It's just a little drive." Wheeze, wheeze. "We need to talk."

Good God, I hoped I was making the right decision.

_**~0~** _

Emmett spent the first five minutes drumming on the steering wheel, bouncing his leg nervously.

Awwwwkward.

"Rosalie can't have kids."

What the fuck?

"Fuck Rosalie," I spat. It was uncalled for, but fuck. I felt shitty from the g'damn pneumonia, nervous because this man had hurt me pretty fucking badly the last time I saw him and I'd just agreed to let him, potentially, hurt me again.

And it looked like he was going to do it - starting up this whole babies thing again. What the-

"No, dude." He growled and sighed, staring forward. "Fuck. Give me a second to talk, okay? You know this isn't my forte."

I busied myself hacking up a lung. Exhausted by my coughing fit, I closed my eyes and waited. Trepidation didn't even begin to cover what i was feeling.

"I was trying to say, it made no sense. The things I told you made no sense. If I was with a girl, things wouldn't necessarily be..."

"Normal? " I suggested.

His hands tightened around the wheel. "I know how fucked up that was, okay?"

"That a fact?"

I knew I was being petty. It was just that being here with him was tearing open those wounds he'd riddled me with.

When he pulled the car over quick, I jumped a little. "My parents are waiting for me."

"This isn't going to take long." He drove off the road, into the trees and pulled to a stop. He leaned forward, slumping over the steering wheel as he breathed in and out for a minute.

When he looked up at me, his eyes were tortured. "Look, I know what I said. Alice already kicked my ass in your name, and you've got every right to do it again." He swallowed hard. "But before you do, just believe me. I know what I did, and I'm so sorry."

He meant it. He was practically begging me with his eyes to believe.

"You talked to Alice?" I rasped.

He blinked and gave a humorless laugh, resting his forehead on the wheel. "Talk is not the word for what happened yesterday. That girl is fierce."

I tried to laugh but ended up with another coughing fit.

"I'm sorry about that, too," he mumbled.

He looked so damn guilty.

"You wanted to drive me," I reminded him.

"Yeah, well... I wouldn't have wanted to be in the same car as me either."

We were both quiet for a minute save for my ever-present wheezing. Several times he opened his mouth only to close it again. "I don't know how to talk about this. My head is..." He huffed. "Guess I'm just not used to thinking this hard."

He was trying to joke, but it was falling flat.

"Bottom line? The things I said... they make  _me_ sick. I didn't mean those things."

"Yeah. You did." There wasn't any anger in my voice. "You didn't mean to aim it at me, but you meant it."

He was quiet, looking at me with a wary expression. I leaned back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling of the car. "I've been there," I pointed out. "I've had all those thoughts."

It took a minute for him to respond. "I'm going out of my skin."

I nodded. "I know."

"I can't stop crying."

"I couldn't either. It's overwhelming. And my brother wasn't sick when it... hit me." I breathed in and out, closing my eyes. My head was spinning a little because I was debating whether or not to fight my instincts.

But I had been there. I'd had Alice to hold me together.

With a shaky breath, I reached out, finding his hand on the steering wheel. I worked my fingers under his, squeezing. He flipped his hand, squeezing back so hard I winced.

It felt good, though, to be touching him again.

I closed my eyes tight, trying not to think about that.

He was serious, too. I could tell by the way he was gasping that he was trying not to cry again.

But he rallied. "I'm going to figure this out."

I stroked my fingers over his tense knuckles. "You're going to be fine, Em."

"Yeah," he agreed. He took another deep breath. "Jasper, I-"

"I know you're sorry," I interrupted. He was so... defeated at that point. I needed to give him something back. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it," he said quietly. His voice shook.

What else could I do? I turned to him, and hugged him. He practically fell into my arms. It was awkward as hell because I was stuffed up and gross and he was big and bulky and there was a stupid armrest between us, but we both needed it.

"I'm gonna figure it out," he said again.

"I know. I'll be here. No matter what."

That was a promise I could keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You. I love you. Yes you. I'm so glad you're with me on this journey.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Once again, this chapter is not beta'ed. Any and all mistakes are mine. Kris is a very impatient beesh and in desperate need of a Monday pick-me-up, so there you have it.

_**~Emmett~** _

"Psychologically, your erratic moods make perfect sense. You've repressed your emotions and even some events for years. I know this isn't precisely a traumatic, er, circumstance, but perhaps the mechanics are the same. The memories, your emotions, are more intense now that you've-"

"Dad," I groaned, slamming my head against the headrest and closing my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's just how I'm used to coming at a problem."

I scoffed. "A problem," I echoed.

"I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant." The last thing I wanted was for anyone to walk on eggshells around me. This was obviously going to take some adjustment - not just for me, but for everyone.

It had been the longest two days of my entire life. Fuck, who was I kidding? I'd aged since my fight with Jasper almost two weeks ago.

Well, maybe I'd finally caught up with myself.

Dad and I were on the way back home to Forks. I was officially taking at least the semester off. My brother was still sick, and there was no way I was going to be away from my family at a time like this. Realistically, I understood this little sabbatical could potentially derail the entire life I had planned. And I was plunging myself headlong from a place where I had a ton of friends and plenty to do to Forks and sickness.

And, oh yeah, I was probably primarily attracted to members of my own sex.

"I'm pretty sure I need to figure this one out on my own," I told him finally. As much as I wanted him to be Super Dad with all the answers, he didn't have the playbook to this game.

Dad glanced at me before returning his eyes to the road. "I just want to help you."

"This helps."

It did, too. He wasn't freaking out, and while I never would have expected him to, it was still nice. After all, if he wasn't flipping out, it helped me not to.

I was a lot calmer than I had been in days. Jasper had forgiven me, and that was a huge weight off my shoulders. That was a start, right?

A thought struck me and my spine went rigid. "Did you tell Mom?"

"Not my place, but I hope you will. She's worried about you, Emmett."

"I know."

So, when we got home, there I was telling the story all over again. It went much the same as it had with Dad. She was guilty that she'd been distracted by her youngest son fighting for his life. Of course.

It was a little frustrating. They did get the whole denial thing, right? If I wasn't admitting it to myself, how could they have figured anything out? Then it was a big guilt fest. They were guilty about me, and I was guilty that they had to be guilty, especially now when they were worried about Edward all over again.

Timing. It was all such great timing. I couldn't have waited another couple of years for this little epiphany?

But I guessed that was what happened when I jumped my best friend at Thanksgiving. Every choice had consequences. Now I just had to work on taking the drama out of the whole situation.

The fucking drama.

I had a headache by the time I finally got back to my room. What I wanted more than anything was to hear Jasper's voice. He was right. He'd been through all this before. He'd been as confused as I was.

And really, I wanted my best friend back. I missed him. I wanted things to be not so strained between us.

I was tossing my phone back and forth, doing the girly thing where I debated on whether or not it would be totally pathetic to call him, when someone knocked on my door.

"Come in," I called, putting my phone down, trying to bet on who was coming for me. Mom, probably. Dad had done all the awkward talking he could since I was blubbering at the hospital.

But I was wrong. It was Edward who shuffled in.

"Hey, kid. I didn't know you were still awake."

"It's not even seven yet," he pointed out, lowering himself carefully into the chair at my desk.

"Guess you're right." I rolled onto my back, staring up at the bikini babes on my ceiling. I glared at them, wondering suddenly why I'd put them up there. I used to stare at them and touch myself. But why? Because I was really attracted or because I thought that's what normal teenage boys did?

They really weren't doing anything for me now, that was for sure.

I blew out a breath. "I guess I'm just really sleepy or something," I muttered.

"Well, I can understand that. I've always thought sucking cock would be exhausting."

I sucked in a breath so quick, I started choking. "Dude! What the fuck?"

Edward was laughing, his lips turned up in a lopsided grin.

Obviously, the cancer hadn't eaten away his urge to be a nosy little bastard. "You heard."

He stared up at the chicks on my ceiling. "So you gonna replace those with some schlong or what? I mean, it'd be an effective way to keep Mom out of your room."

"Jesus Christ," I muttered. "I've never even seen another guy's dick. At least, you know... not like that."

"You haven't?" I shook my head, probably a little too hard. "So far, I think you're bad at being this whole liking boys thing, then."

I smacked my head with my palm. "You know, you're not going to be sick forever. I'm going to kick your ass at some point."

Edward just laughed again.

But after he'd had his fun, the room was quiet. I looked over at him, finding he was staring at the ceiling too, his face pinched in consternation. "I wish you were right."

"About what?" When was the last time I'd been right about anything?

"I wish the world didn't revolve around me. I wish you were going back to school and... just everything."

I huffed a little, feeling selfish that I was all out of sorts about something relatively minor. I mean, it sure felt big in my own head but for fucks sake. Edward was fighting for his life.

"I'd trade you if I could. I really would." My brother had been dealing with this thing since he was so young, it broke my heart. So many times over the years, I wished I could take at least some of the lumps for him.

And I also was so glad it wasn't me, it made me guilty all over again.

He scoffed. "Well, not for nothing, but I wouldn't take that deal anyway. This sucks and all," he gestured to his body, "but I wouldn't trade Bella for anything." He shook his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'll tough it out, thanks."

He shook his head quickly, before a dark mood could overtake him. These types of conversations were typically in the strictly forbidden category. "Anyway. I know this is cheesy, and I know it's not the same, but I'm here for you, too. About your stuff. I mean, I know what it's like to be in love, so maybe I can help you."

 _What the hell_? "What does that have to do with anything?"

Tilting his head, he looked at me curiously. "That's what's been going on with you, hasn't it? It wasn't a girl, it was Jasper."

I sat up, wrapping my arms around my legs.

"Like you said. There's a reason he kept coming back," Edward mused. "Hey, maybe it's not so much that you like guys but you like him, you know? Like I wasn't really interested in anyone until Bella came along."

Resting my head on my knees, I rocked a little.

I'd briefly considered the fact that Jasper was in love with me, feeling three times as bad as I already did about being such a dick to him. Most of me wanted to decide it was egotistical to think he thought that way of me. Either way, I dismissed it along with the bazillion other thoughts in my head. Too much input, and it wasn't the kind of thing I should have been guessing about.

How I felt about Jasper - besides the fact I hated that I'd hurt him so badly - I had yet to piece together.

_**~Jasper~** _

We texted at first, mostly.

I mean, I could hardly breathe with the whole pneumonia thing, and Emmett was trying to sort himself out. Speaking wouldn't have gone very well. Bless the smart phone phenomenon, really or we probably wouldn't have spoken at all.

He texted me first two days after he went back to Forks, asking me how it was with my parents.

At first, my stomach kind of twisted because I wondered if he was going to try and pretend our last conversation never happened. But when I asked him how he was doing, fully expecting him to ignore the subtext behind it, he texted back that he was better. Calmer, he said.

_**It's like... a smidge less scary.** _

That was an honest response if ever I heard one.

I replied back that he needed to just keep breathing. He would see the world was no different today than it had been yesterday. He was still him, just with a little more insight into his own head, that was all.

Some nights later, he asked me the same question I'd asked Alice when I figured it all out.

_**What do I do now?** _

A part of me - a big part - wanted to tell him to come home. Suddenly, things I hadn't let myself think about before were a possibility. There was this want in me that made my heart race and my blood thrum hard in my veins remembering everything: the way it felt when his body was surrounding mine, the hot little whimpers when I had his cock in my mouth.

But not just the physical things. I wanted cuddling on the couch and all of our old banter, but with the guarantee that I wasn't going to catch him making out with a girl - or a guy, I guess - ever again.

I wanted to be that guy.

I wanted to be the one he flirted with and charmed. I'd seen him wink at girls before - many a time - from across the campus. I wanted those looks to be mine.

Staring at the text, dizzy with want, I forced myself to breathe because now wasn't the time. Instead of texting back what I really wanted, I told him the same thing Alice told me.

**You don't have to do anything. Take the time to get used to the idea, and don't be ashamed.**

Speaking of Alice - she was none too pleased about how easily I'd forgiven him. I told her we all made mistakes. He wasn't making excuses for himself.

It might have been different if he was still home. The distance helped. It had been jarring and painful to hear those things from his mouth, especially given I'd had that revelation just that morning. I realized I was in love with him mere minutes before he completely broke my heart.

That took time to heal. Distance made it easier and harder. But Emmett was making an effort not to push me away, for sure. And he didn't just talk about himself when we messaged. He always asked about how I was doing and if things were okay with my parents.

Weeks passed. I got better. My parents went home with a promise they wouldn't forget again that their son was alive and well.

We were a week or two into the Spring semester when Emmett said he was coming home for a day. Edward had a doctor's visit, and he said it would be nice if we could hang out, just the two of us.

That was when I gave in and called Peter.

I'd been tiptoeing around the subject with him, not telling him what was going on and being vague when he asked about how my sexy roomie was doing. I didn't know why I did this, but there it was.

Now, though, everything came out. On the one hand, I was dying to see Emmett again, just so eager. But I didn't know what was going to happen.

Really, I didn't know what I  _wanted_ to happen when Emmett and I were alone in a room for a prolonged period of time again. The "what ifs" had my mind buzzing.

If Emmett wanted to... do something with me, was I going to say no?

If it was something he wanted, could I be to Emmett what Peter had been to me?

And if something deeper between us was a possibility, was I a complete and total moron for wanting more with a man who had used me?

Peter was silent for a minute before he started speaking. "Well, sugar, the more I think about it, the more I realize that we aren't different from anyone else. I think everyone, no matter what their sexuality, has to go through this." He scoffed. "Granted, we have to deal with the judgment of society and what not, damn hypocrites."

"What are you saying? Go through what?"

"Deciding what we want, what we need in a partner. It's a story as old as the world, isn't it? We hurt people who don't deserve it, hurt ourselves choosing the wrong people." He chuckled. "None of us have a clear path; not a one of us."

"Okay," I said slowly. "That all makes sense, but I still don't know what to do, Peter."

"Oh, honey. None of us does. And I can't answer that question for you."

Son of a bitch. I knew he was going to say that.

"Here's what I can say," Peter continued. "Whatever you choose to do, go in with both eyes open. You gotta be fair not only to yourself but to him."

"Okay."

"No, that's harder than it seems." He laughed. "You little fool. You don't realize at all, do you? How in love with you I was?"

"Peter..."

"No, no. Don't go feeling bad for me." Again, that lovely chuckle. "I knew what I was doing. It wasn't easy, but I wanted you to feel safe with someone you first anything should be like that, no matter what the circumstance. Believe me, it was worth it. I don't regret it.

"But the point is, I knew from minute one what it was to you and what it had to be for me. You make that choice, to be there that way for him, you cannot blame him if your heart breaks when he turns away. So before you get in over your head in the moment, know what you're getting into."

I didn't say anything - couldn't. My throat was too tight. The truth was never easy to hear.

"Jasper, it's not to say you can't get your happily ever after out of this. I have no idea. I know he cares for you. He may not be able to handle it just yet, but there's hope. I'm a romantic at heart, honey. This can be a beautiful story.

"I'm just saying... both eyes open."

_**~Emmett~** _

I didn't know why I felt like knocking. It was my apartment after all. I didn't know why I was so jumpy.

Well, that was almost entirely not true. I knew why I was so jumpy.

Talking via text was one thing, but seeing Jasper again, especially under the circumstances, was tripping me out a bit.

Thing was, I was in that place again. The reason I was back in Tacoma for the day was because Edward had a doctor's appointment. And chemo. Of course, more of that. Never enough of that.

I hated it. There was only one good outcome to those appointments and we'd only gotten it once. No sign of cancer.

Bastards.

Everything else was just some progress, not enough progress, or...

Well, I didn't want to think about 'or.'

I was feeling needy. That hadn't turned out so well before, and I wasn't sure I trusted myself to do the right thing.

Actually, I wasn't too sure what the right thing was.

Because if I liked Jasper that way, well... I'd never been shy about expressing attraction before. But my feelings for Jasper were all tangled up and confused with what I was needy for - comfort - and just the instability of not knowing where I stood in my own head. Being away from him while I tried to figure out which way was up, I could almost convince myself he was just a catalyst.

I could almost convince myself... until Jasper opened the door.

There was that saying about the veil being lifted. There had to be some truth to it because for being a guy I'd known for over two and a half years, I don't think I really saw Jasper until that moment.

He was wearing a sweatshirt that hugged at his arms, and I suddenly remembered when I caught him staring at himself in the mirror with his shirt off, right before Peter came that first time. I remembered running my fingers along the ridges of his new muscles, showing him the definition.

I wanted to do it again.

Like. A lot.

"Hey," he greeted, blinking his pretty brown eyes at me. Even from behind those goddamn thick ass glasses, his eyes were uh... striking today. Yeah. I was a little pinned in place.

"Hi." I licked my lips after I spoke because the fuckers had gone dry.

Actually, my whole mouth had gone dry.

I thought I knew what it felt like to be attracted to someone. What I figured out right then and there was that I'd never been attracted to the girls I was with. What I had for them was an appreciation. The female form, good lord - it was pure art. They were built so perfect - all curves and softness.

But appreciation wasn't the same as heat. It had never sent a tingle like this right down my spine. Instantly, I was in this surreal little space where my thoughts didn't make any sort of sense, which was kind of a conundrum because I  _felt_ super aware. Of what, I didn't really know, couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was almost like I was waiting for something.

It got worse when I brushed by him, into the apartment.

Jumpy. I was definitely jumpy. And my skin, where his shirt brushed mine - his fucking shirt, come on - was tingling. I rubbed my arm self consciously.

"You don't look so much like hell," I muttered, trying to joke, trying to break this ridiculous tension. "Not like last time I saw you."

"Thanks, I think I'm not so gross now that I'm not hacking up a lung.." He shook his head, but his eyes were concerned as they looked me over. "You do, though. Look like hell I mean."

I wanted to feign hurt or snap back that I looked good even on my worst day - which was true, by the way - but my shoulders just slumped. "Night before a doctor visit always sucks," I admitted, forgetting the weird tingling sensations when I thought about why I was really here. "Edward can never sleep." Neither could I, for that matter. Who knew what Mom and Dad did but we usually stayed up talking. Or rather, I stayed up distracting him - distracting both of us really - because we were both scared of the same thing.

What if it was worse?

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to let that thought get overwhelming. Edward had been so tired recently. More tired even than usual. Even when Bella was over, the light in his eyes just wasn't as bright and it was scaring the hell out of me.

"I really just hate doctors." I was looking down at my feet when I spoke. There was something about Jasper's presence - even before all the bullshit I put us through - that made me forget to be the strong one, forget to put up this wall where I hid all the things I was secretly afraid of. Aside from when I broke down at the hospital in front of my dad - and I guess that whole week and a half beforehand, I'd been a goddamn basket case - I really never let anyone see when something bothered me.

I'd never forget what Jasper said to me that night after Edward got sick again. When he said I could be scared with him. It was like, with him, my head was reprogrammed. He knew what I really felt.

Apparently, that hadn't changed. He must have heard it in my voice. He'd had his arms tucked tight around him, defensive, but he loosened up, hesitating only a second before he put his hand lightly on my shoulder. His touch relieved some of the weight on my chest, and I felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks.

"I have a really bad headache."

Really, I had no idea why I brought this up. Headaches were nothing. I usually didn't even take anything for them, let alone whine about it.

He studied me like he was deciding something. For some reason, it made me hold my breath.

His hand slipped down my arm making me shiver. He wrapped his fingers loosely around mine. "Do you want to lay down?"

He didn't say 'with me' but I heard it anyway.

My throat got so tight, I couldn't have talked if I wanted to. I knew by the way he was looking at me, he was giving me the choice. He was giving me the option to walk away.

He was putting his trust in me not to do what I'd done to him before.

Maybe I was an asshole, but I wasn't that stupid. I'd learned my lesson the first time. His forgiveness was a gift I didn't really deserve in the first place. Taking advantage of that would mean I'd hurt him again and lose him for sure. I wasn't going to let that happen. Regardless of anything else, he was important to me. If I started down this road, I wasn't going to be able to pretend it didn't happen.

Whatever 'it' turned out to be.

My heart was pounding like crazy. I'd never been so stupid nervous in my entire life.

Still, I nodded.

His fingers wrapped around mine more firmly, and he tugged my hand, leading me to my room.

I'd always prided myself in being something of a smooth operator, but I was so out of my depth. I was second guessing everything, thinking I'd probably read the situation wrong and he really just thought I looked tired. But when I lay down in my bed, he lay right across from me. He left a good amount of space between us.

I wanted to close it.

I wanted to scoot to the opposite edge of the bed, far away from him.

Jasper didn't say anything, but I thought his breathing was a little labored, like he was trying to keep a steady rhythm but couldn't quite get it.

When he raised his hand, resting it against my neck, I jumped a little. We both froze. But then he started rubbing gently, working away my ache with firm fingers.

It felt so good.

Like if I was a dog, my leg would start doing that tap, tap, tap thing.

The lump in my throat loosened a little.

For a minute or so, I closed my eyes, letting his touch soothe away the tension in my head. I took deep breaths because I finally could. I didn't realize how stressed out I was - over Edward and all the changes going on in my own head - until I was laying with him. Even though he was barely touching me, I felt comforted.

I wanted more.

Not everything. Not really anything but what I'd thought about before. How nice it would be to let someone hug me, just be with me.

Hold me up when I felt weak, like Jake said.

My eyes opened slowly, finding his watching me from behind his glasses as his fingers began to inch up from my neck into my hair.

You know, I didn't even realize I'd moved at all until I saw my fingers curl around the edge of his glasses. Gently, I pulled them off and reached behind me, setting them on the nightstand without looking away from him.

Pretty eyes.

A finger of panic touched the base of my skull. There was still this part of me that screamed that this wasn't right, this wasn't normal. I had the urge to push him the hell away from me or kiss him hard and fast like I used to - fast enough to outrun the panic, hard enough to push it down and overpower it.

I swallowed hard, breathing through my nose to keep myself in the moment. It was just Jasper. The world wasn't going to end because I was curled up here on my bed, my body mirroring his, his hand on me and mine on him. I was running the pad of my finger over his cheek just feeling.

Rough. Stubble.

It didn't feel wrong at all to be touching him like this. Different, yeah. But not wrong.

I cupped my whole hand against his cheek.

The panic got smaller. It was still there, but it was easier to think around.

I was kind of stuck there, though, like I'd forgotten the next move. Why was it so different? Despite the fact I'd been intimate with other people, this felt like a whole new ball game.

Luckily, though, either Jasper took pity on me or he was as eager as I felt for more - just that little bit more. He scooted closer, his fingers still stroking through my hair. He tilted his head and I closed my eyes and just like that, we were kissing again.

There was nothing hurried about this kiss, nothing rough or urgent. It was sweet. The kind of sweet that made me want to cry because damn. Goddamn.

This was the tenderness I'd been aching for. Soft touch, a peaceful presence, and despite everything else going on, all the noise in my head faded away. It was this perfect knowledge that everything was going to be okay, not because he could guarantee me that my brother would survive or that whatever road I'd started down, realizing I was attracted to boys, would be easy, but because he would be there for me. And as I gave in, and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, feeling his body against mine without crushing him beneath me, I finally felt strong enough to survive anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We are rapidly approaching the end of our tale. One or two more chapters, I think, but we'll see. These boys sometimes surprise me.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Rawr. I love youz guyz.

Of course I knew what would happen when I brought him to his bed and laid down with him. At least, I had to assume something would happen. What it was never became a concrete thought in my mind. I thought I'd let him make a move if he was gonna do it, but when I felt his hands on me like that - all soft and... adoring - I had to kiss him. It was need, pure and simple.

I waited for him to take the upper hand, push me onto my back and make the kiss urgent. He didn't though. It was so sweet. They were little kisses - just lips barely tasting, hardly more than brushing together. Pretty little things that made my heart beat fast like a hummingbird's wings.

He didn't pull away. In fact, so slowly, his body crept toward mine. I could feel how he was trembling, but he still didn't stop. He wound his arms around me, his hand spread wide over my back, making me giving me a wicked good case of the tinglies. Ah, yeah.

The most adorable little kittens didn't make me feel this stupid giddy. It was just pure happy for those minutes. I wished they were endless. I wished I could always feel like this.

But he broke the kiss before long, and when I looked, his eyes were squeezed tight shut, his mouth open. He was panting, not with exertion - they hadn't been those type of kisses - but because he was on the verge of panic.

Hoping I wasn't making it worse by touching him, I ran my fingers through his soft curls. Bit by bit, he got control of his breathing. Inwardly I cringed, waiting for him to roll away, brush this whole thing off like it hadn't happened.

I should have given him more credit.

He let out a shaky breath before he opened his eyes. He was still there - in the moment. He knew where he was, and while I could see the trepidation in his eyes, he wasn't running.

He breathed in and out slowly, and after a moment, he grinned. He looked so oddly pleased with himself, I had to laugh.

"What?" He ducked his head, and that only made me laugh harder. Since when had Emmett ever been bashful? "Dude!"

"What the hell are you smiling about?" I asked when I was finally able to speak through my laughter. "You're looking so smug right now."

It was hard to figure out what look he was going for then. He tried to scowl, but he looked too sheepish, and then he couldn't stop his grin from reemerging. The effect was hilarious. It rekindled my laughter in a heartbeat. I could barely breathe, I was giggling so hard.

It was the lightest I'd felt in a long time, really. Since before Thanksgiving for sure.

"You think this is funny, Whitlock?" Emmett demanded.

I tried to say yes, but I was laughing too hard.

Next thing I knew, he'd done some crazy ninja move, trapping my legs with his and tumbling both of us off the bed to the ground.

I'd seen him do this a million times with Jake and his other guy friends. They would be bantering and suddenly a wrestling match would break out and they were rolling around on the floor. It was kind of hot to watch, but despite all the boy bodies twisting around each other, it was completely hetero - all testosterone with absolutely no heat.

It wasn't like that with us.

We fell to the floor, landing with my on my back and him on top of me, our legs tangled and all of his weight on me. I was knocked breathless. He rolled off me, but only just. We were still all snarled up together, his nose barely an inch from mine.

The air around us shifted again. His face was registering shock, like he didn't quite understand how he'd gotten there, like he'd done the whole wrestling thing a hundred times before but this was a totally new outcome.

Well, that made two of us, big guy.

I watched the shock fade slowly from his eyes. He didn't move, like he couldn't. He was watching me, and the look he gave me was definitely not friendly.

There was fire behind that look. Want. My mouth went dry when I saw it, and suddenly being still was the most impossible thing I could imagine. I wanted to press my body up against his, filling the small spaces between us. I wanted to kiss him again, but maybe not so sweet this time.

Maybe a little more thorough than all that.

It took absolutely all my willpower to keep still, let him lead this particular party. I was so busy concentrating on not acting on my impulses that I gave a little yelp of surprise when his hands slid up into my hair, pulling my head forward even as he ducked down just that little bit to kiss me.

Man.

These were fuller kisses than the tiny, sweet ones we shared - harder, but not desperate like the way he'd kissed me before. No, these were just... exuberant kisses.

Like he liked it.

Like he really, really liked it.

A lot.

And I loved the way his hand was so big, he could cup the whole side of my face.

This was so nice. I didn't want it to end at all. I sighed into his mouth, my fingers playing with the little hairs at the back of his neck.

He pressed his body a little harder into me. Wasn't that the sweetest pressure? My body was reacting - I couldn't think about anything but these amazing, hot kisses - and my legs widened a bit, letting him press against me.

He  _really_  liked that.

But it must have freaked him out a bit.

With a groan, he disentangled himself from me, rolling onto his back, his arm thrown over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. He swallowed hard once, twice, and panted a little before he spoke. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't mean to be so... spastic."

He was trembling a little.

Taking pity on him, I tried to change the subject, tried to get up and suggest we maybe go see that show we always watched together. But when I tried to move, he wrapped his hand around my wrist, anchoring me there.

"No, don't do that." His eyes were still closed, but his breathing was more even. "I don't want to ignore it again. Just gimmie a second."

"Well," I said slowly, trying hard not to smile so wide that he was struggling to keep himself there with me. "We could go watch the show anyway, only with no rules about keeping our hands to ourselves."

He opened one eye, his lips crinkling in an amused smile. "You coming on to me, Whitlock?"

"Well, yeah."

He waggled his eyebrows at me. "Guess I can't blame you. I mean, I'd want to get all up on this." He gestured to himself.

"Oh, Jesus," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He propped his hands behind his head. "However did you recognize me without my sandals?"

I had to laugh, and I know I was grinning at him like a damn fool. It was just so good to have him back.

 

_**~Emmett~** _

Sometimes it really bugged me that I couldn't just be chill about everything. Boys being attracted to boys, girls being attracted to girls, guys being attracted to girls... none of it mattered to me. It just seemed natural that people liked other people and that was that.

So why was it fucking with my head so badly?

The thing was, as much as I was kind of going out of my mind, there was also this part of me that felt so... Well, it was hard to explain. It was like an epic face palm moment when it finally settled into my brain.

It occurred to me that all my interactions with women were all bravado. It was like being on stage, playing out a scene, acting a part. I really didn't realize it because I was comfortable in the role. I was good at it, and I wasn't unhappy.

But when I just accepted the fact that yeah... I was attracted to dudes, there was this kind of lightening in my chest, like I could take a deep breath for the first time in my life.

So why the hell did it freak me out sometimes?

Maybe it was a matter of programming.

There was how I acted with boys and how I acted with girls. I'd never stopped to think about it before. If someone had asked me if I treated my guy friends different from my girlfriends, I would have answered no, but it wasn't true.

I'd always been able to wrestle with Jacob, for instance, and it didn't mean anything. But I would never have been that physical with a girl.

Then again, was it different because I was looking at guys differently now, or was it just different because it was Jasper?

This was the shit that drove me insane. Suddenly, everything was so complicated. As stupid as it sounded given that I was laying in bed with him, I'd forgotten that things like wrestling meant something different. A lot of otherwise ordinary things were different when done with someone you were interested in.

I guess my brain was having trouble sorting out the fact that things like wrestling with guys was going to be a little bit different now.

Or maybe it was just wrestling with Jasper.

I kind of wondered about getting down to the naked wrestling. With Jasper.

That scared the shit out of me.

And it aroused me.

Fuck.

The timing really was the worst possible thing.

I felt like I should be out in the world, surrounded by people so I could really figure out how it all worked now that the light bulb had flicked on in my head. Did I have a type? I hadn't been at all smooth or confident with Jasper; would I even be able to flirt with a guy?

Did I want to flirt with other guys?

Because, really, most of my guy on guy related thoughts involved him and me, and no one else was invited.

Either way, though, what did it matter? I was at home most of the time with my family, with my sick little brother. This so wasn't a good time to figure anything out.

I kept having to remind myself of what had happened the last time I put my own issues, my own self discovery, I guess, on a shelf to be examined later - when things were calmer.

Seen couldn't be unseen and realized couldn't be unrealized, I supposed. I didn't think I could go backward even if I tried.

Time insisted on speeding by, though.

My decision to come home was the right one, but it wasn't easy. Unlike the first time, I didn't even have school to distract me. It was a lot to deal with. I was watching Edward, and watching Mom, and watching Dad. It wasn't like I had a job or anything, so they were my job.

It wasn't that they weren't concerned for me - they were. But there wasn't much they could do. It was almost annoying how many times they told me they loved me and that they were there if I wanted to talk.

Maybe when I was fifteen and relatively innocent they could have helped me sort it all out. Now that I was all grown up, the conversation was just too awkward. I mean, what? I was supposed to tell them I was looking at man porn to see if it did anything for me? Like I wanted to have that conversation with my mother.

Dude. Just. No.

So I looked after them. I tried to keep my brother in good spirits - which was a task, let me tell you. When Edward was asleep or otherwise occupied, I would sometimes catch my mother with her hands over her eyes, just trying to hold it all together, and I tried to help her. When I saw Dad get that pinched look, I got to distracting him.

Whatever I could do.

It was exhausting.

Mostly, Edward couldn't go to school, so almost every day, Bella showed up to help him with his homework.

That was what the kids called it, anyway. Mostly, helping with his homework consisted of a lot of cuddles and kisses. It was so sweet.

And it made me... yearn.

I knew what I wanted. I just didn't know if I had a right to ask for it. There was another switch. Apparently, my cocky self confidence had gone the way of my heterosexuality.

Or, again, maybe it was just Jasper. It was hard to be cocky with him, about him, when he'd seen me at my lowest and my worst. I'd fucked with his head and his heart - which was just not something any friend did to another. And now what? I wanted more with him?

Did I want more?

What I wanted was to stop giving myself a headache over this. The fact of the matter was, Jasper was absolutely the best, brightest part of my world at that point. I didn't know how I would have gotten through any of it without him.

It was only two weeks after we'd made out that first time that we were Skyping. Skyping with Jasper was always hilarious. The boy simply couldn't be on his computer without firing up his game. Our conversation was punctuated by 'G'damn ganking son of a bitch!' and 'Oh, shit! Hold on. I've got aggro!'

I was laughing so hard. It felt so damn good to laugh a little.

I kind of wondered then how long I'd found him so... Well, I was charmed. So charmed. Like warm, fluffy feelings.

Trippy.

When he'd finally gotten all the mobs or whatever off his ass, I got back to what I'd been telling him about.

A couple days before, Jake had come for a visit unexpectedly. Like, the asshole called me up out of the blue going, "Dude, where the fuck is the driveway to your house again? You should have that shit marked. What, you Cullens are so damn antisocial you have to live three miles away from paved roads?"

I was about this close to panicking if you wanted to know the truth. Something had definitely changed - was still changing - between me and Jasper. Would things be different between me and Jake? Looking at him for the first time since I'd broken down at the hospital, would I see something I hadn't before?

The answer, I found, was a little yes, but mostly no.

The yes was simple enough. I'd always been able to acknowledge objectively when another man was sexy. Now there was a little bit of appreciation I let myself feel, but I wasn't attracted to Jake.

That didn't stop me from getting all jumpy when he touched me: thumped me on the back, offered me a bro-hug when he came in the door.

He didn't know, and I didn't know if I wanted him to know. Yet.

It wasn't a shame thing. With everything else, I just wasn't prepared to deal with changes to my relationship with Jake. Like, I felt so relieved when I saw him, because I knew I could wrestle with him like we always did and it wouldn't mean anything more, but would he understand that?

Either way. It made me happy that some things hadn't changed. One less confusing issue to deal with.

It took a while for me to realize that Jasper had gone quiet. Like, no clicks, no muffled cursing at pixels quiet.

"Dude. What'd I say?"

"It's nothing," he said quickly.

Yeah, right. "It's not nothing."

"Okay. But it's stupid." His tone was dismissive.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on. Most of the shit coming out of my mouth is stupid. Tell me."

He sighed. "You let Jacob come over," he mumbled.

Son of a bitch. He was jealous. I could hear it in his voice.

"Let is not the right word," I said with a nervous chuckle, wondering if I was really contemplating what I was contemplating.

Awkward silence.

Then my libido got the better of me. "You know, if you wanted to visit, you could."

More silence.

"Wouldn't that upset Edward?" Jasper asked after a moment, giving me an out like he always did. "Wouldn't upsetting Edward upset your parents?"

I breathed in and out quietly. My heart was pounding like crazy because I wanted him to come over. I really, really did.

"When he came over, Jake said something that made sense. He said Edward couldn't really avoid people seeing him suffer. He said I knew he wouldn't be a dick about it, and anyway, it wasn't all about him. I deserve my friends, too."

More silence. I was on tenterhooks. Seriously.

"Then it's okay if I come down on Thursday night?"

I was so twisted up and excitable and nervous and... yeah, that I didn't even make the obvious joke.

_Ah, yeah, baby. You can definitely go down on Thursday night. Giggity._

"You want to stay until Sunday?"

"Is that okay?" His voice was quiet. Unassuming. I flipped over to the Skype screen, wishing the video feed was active, but we were voice only at the moment.

"Yeah." My throat was so tight, the word was scratchy. "Yeah. That's cool."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so... Emmett decided to be as wordy as his little brother usually is. So I think for definite we get two more chapters. I don't know if there will be an epilogue, but either way, I'm gonna try to have this done by the end of the week. Course I said that last week didn't I?
> 
> Look... if you don't know what's coming next chapter (a tee hee)...


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, my darlings. I do love you a lots.

**_~Jasper~_ **

There were flaws in my plan. A fair few, actually. But there was one really big one.

No, not that.

Emmett had invited me to Forks, and I'd accepted... Now how the fuck was I going to get there?

I paced the better part of a day before I gave in and went to grovel at Alice's feet.

She was not pleased.

Not pleased at. All.

She stood there tapping her her foot with her arms crossed. Maybe she was pint-sized, but good lord, I felt about as small as an ant when she looked at me like that.

"I know what I'm doing, Alice." I know I sounded defensive, but fuck.

At that, she scoffed. "Yeah, sure you do. You know what they say, Jasper. Fool me once..."

"There's no games!" I shook my head. "You haven't seen him. He's not pushing it away at all. He got a little freaked out last time, and when I tried to change the subject, he wouldn't let me."

She pursed her lips and sighed, her shoulders sagging a little. "You just need to be careful. You need to think of yourself first with this kind of shit. I mean... what if he wants to take it further than you've been? Further than you're ready to go."

I had to laugh a little at that. "If it starts to go further than I want to go, I stop it. Come on, Ally. He's not a rapist."

"Yeah, well. He got really good at putting what he wanted first before."

"That's not the same thing, and you know it."

Her expression softened a big. "Yes, I know." She looked so pensive. "Seeing you go through that... It was hard. Not for nothing, but I don't want to do it again."

"It's not going to happen that way again."

"Maybe not that specifically." She wrapped her arm around my waist, hugging me close. "How are you doing this when you feel the way you feel about him?"

At that, I looked down at the floor. After a long while, I shrugged. "It is what it is."

"What does that mean?"

I thought about what Peter said about going in with both eyes open and ran over my words carefully before I spoke, knowing she probably wouldn't understand. "I know what I'm doing," I finally said quietly. "And yeah, I know it will probably hurt. A lot. But there's a big difference between walking into it knowingly and getting blindsided.

"Right now, it's more important to me that he has the support he needs, and that he learns how to be comfortable with someone who cares about him." I tilted my head at her, begging her to understand. "Who else is it gonna be? He doesn't have a Peter. If I let him, he'll slip back to that place where he only worries about his brother."

She held her hands up in a peacemaking gesture and smiled sadly at me. "I hope he realizes just how much you love him. If he has any sense at all..." Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess that's asking too much of the big lug, hmm?"

I smirked. "Maybe."

With another sigh, she went to her purse and pulled out her keys. "You know I'll always love you, even when you're stupid."

Smiling, I pulled her close and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. "I know that. You mean the world to me. Really."

_**~0~** _

I was nervous as a boy about to be caught by his teenage beau's father.

Really, that expression wasn't inaccurate, given the circumstances. I mean, Emmett's whole family knew I liked boys, and now Emmett liked boys. And we had kissed. And they probably didn't know point for point about the blow job, but they could infer.

So all I could think when Esme opened the door for me was that she knew - she had to fucking know - that I would have my hands all over her child in the very near future. Under her roof. Near where her youngest son slept.

Lordy.

I jumped a mile out of my skin when her first reaction was to hug me tight. Still, it was a little awkward. I shook hands with Carlisle and waved at Edward, asking him how he was doing. He gave me a withering look that told me what a stupid question that was.

"Today's a bad day," Esme said quietly to me.

Yeah. Kid didn't look good at all. It made my throat get tight. He was as gaunt and gray as Lucy had been.

A hand on my arm caught my attention, and I turned to find Emmett standing behind me, his expression tight. "Hey."

"Hey." I wanted to take his hand and squeeze it, but I didn't want to push him in front of his family.

He gestured with his chin. "Wanna go upstairs?"

"Yeah." I followed him, my heart beginning to pound. It was kind of a surreal moment because I wasn't sure how to feel. Seeing Edward wasn't easy by a long shot - not when it brought on so many images of Lucy.

Suddenly, it was me feeling a bit needy.

What a dangerous position that was. I'd always understood why Emmett did what he did after Thanksgiving. Watching someone you cared about wither away and suffer was just utterly maddening. There was no escape from how horrible it was, but that didn't stop me from wanting to try.

Emmett's arms around me, his lips against mine, was a happy place for me. It felt good. I knew it. So the urge to seek pleasure and just let that consume me rather than the black, heavy feeling? Yeah. Who could resist it?

And Edward wasn't even my little brother, so I could only imagine how Emmett was feeling.

The minute we got to his room and the door closed, I put my arms around him. He stiffened for a second but then relaxed against me, ducking a bit to rest his head on my shoulder. For long seconds, we just breathed.

"Today has sucked a lot," he muttered.

I just ran my hands through his hair. There weren't really any words to comfort someone in this position. Platitudes always pissed me off because no one - no one - could guarantee it would be okay.

So I just held him and tried to breathe, tried to let go of my own tension so I could concentrate on him.

After a long minute, the tension drained from Emmett's body. He raised his head, looking a little calmer. "I'm glad you're here."

I still wasn't used to his quietness, expecting him to flash a grin or throw out a joke to relieve the oppressive atmosphere. Still, there was something so intimate in the way he let me see this part of him, let me see him scared and and tired.

We talked for a bit about school and Alice. He asked if I'd heard from Peter. I gave him a look and asked if he really wanted to know. He made a face like he'd bitten into a lemon and shook his head sheepishly.

"What's got you asking about Peter all of a sudden?"

He shrugged. We were sitting side by side on the bed with a little respectful distance between us. I think we were both nervous.

"I don't know," he mumbled. We were both looking down. I was looking at his hand, watching him tug at a string of his comforter.

Both to stop him from destroying the damn thing and because the want to touch him was getting too great, I put my hand over his.

He blew out a quick huff of breath, flipping his hand to squeeze my fingers. "I guess I just wondered if you still... do things with him."

My cheek twitched. "Do things?"

He gave a little growl. "Dude. Never mind."

"No, I'm curious now." I was amused. How could I not be? He was blushing for fuck's sake. Blushing! "What things am I supposed to be doing with a man who's almost all the way across the country?"

He scooted over into my bubble space, cupping my cheek just the way I liked and turning my head toward him. "Don't be a prick, dick."

I just sighed, feeling happy and content when he was kissing me.

Either I pushed forward or Emmett pulled backward - I really couldn't tell. Either way, we were suddenly horizontal. He was on his back, his hands running up and down my spine, and I was leaning over him.

Pulling back after a moment, I looked down on him, stroking his chin and cheeks.

Love was warm - I knew that first hand. It was a comforting and quiet tenderness. I could have touched him like this, so soft, and been happy forever.

But it was multi-faceted, that feeling. I wanted other things too. Yeah, I could be content with the simple stuff - I could bathe in that forever - but I knew it could get so, so much better.

His eyes, as he looked up at me, were calm; not a hint of panic. There was a little smile playing about his lips. He was letting me lead, which I kind of figured was unusual for him, but he wasn't scared about following.

Yet.

I let my fingers skim down the thick bands of his neck to his shoulders before I splayed my hand flat against his broad chest.

"Can I touch you?"

His eyes got wider. He licked his lips, his mouth hanging slightly open. There was that spark of fear in his eyes, but I'd prepared myself for that. Natural.

He nodded - a simple jerk of his head.

I leaned in again, kissing him slow and soft. I was propped up on one arm, but I let my hand start to move from his chest down, down, until I was cupping him through his jeans.

As I started to rub him, I felt him come to life beneath my hand, heard his quick gasp of breath and the little moan he smothered against my lips.

He was kind of still at first, and I could guess it was because this was all a little off to him. It had to be so different since he'd had all this experience with girls and here he was with me. But he wasn't still for long.

At first, it was just a little wiggle - his center coming up to meet my hand, push himself just a little against my palm. But after a little bit, that movement spread to his whole body. He was writhing for me. His hands, as they moved over my back, cupping against my neck, tugging me closer.

And holy hell, my body was made of static electricity - that tingle that was almost painful, it was so intense. It was the kind of thrill that chased thought right out of my head. Glorious.

He moved and I moved, and before I knew it, I was straddling him. My body was kind of draped over his. I held his face in my hands, kissing him long and deep while I started to slide over him.

I needed the friction. Sweet baby Jesus, it was so sweet. So perfect - moving my hard length against his. Even though we both had jeans on, it was good.

Emmett was giving as good as I was. His tongue slid over mine eagerly, his hips rolling to the pace I set. When his hands slipped under my shirt, pressing hard against the skin of my back, I moaned. Loud.

"Shhh!" he hissed.

I tried to force my moan into a whimper. He laughed, but then he bit his lip because he wanted to moan too, I'd bet - judging from the look on his face.

His eyes were open. My face was just an inch from his. Our bodies were moving together. Our gaze was focused - his on mine and mine on his. I guessed my eyes were a mirror of his - dilated, heavy with want, and frozen. I knew I couldn't have looked away even if I wanted to.

I'd never been this connected with another person - and our clothes weren't even off. It was the best kind of overwhelming - frightening, but so worth it.

And I knew I was so fucked.

Because I could tell myself all I wanted that me being in love with him and me doing this for him were two separate things. They weren't. They so weren't. I couldn't speak for him, but for me? What we were doing here was an act of love.

Maybe I should have closed my eyes, cut off that connection. But fuck it. I was all in. I might as well enjoy the ride while I was on it.

No pun intended.

I did close that inch between us though, and I kissed him. It was a hard, but serious kind of kiss. Lingering. Promising.

"Fuck. Jazz." His words were a rumble against my lips. I groaned with the vibration.

"You gonna come for me, baby? Hmm?" My hands were in his hair as I rode him hard, fast, sliding over him. I was so close. So fucking close.

He banged his head back against the pillow, his voice whining in the back of his throat. His eyes found mine again.

So intense.

It almost tumbled out of my mouth then - what I felt. I wanted to name this feeling in me, turning my pleasure into pure ecstasy.

Instead, I smothered the words between us, finally closing my eyes to kiss him just as I came. I jerked against him, he jerked against me, and we were making the most ridiculous - and fuck hot - noises. They were little mewling sounds - strangled because we didn't want anyone to hear what we were doing.

When I was done, I kind of crumpled down next to him, loving the way his arm curled around me automatically. It felt intimate. Maybe we were all sticky and gross, but I couldn't remember a time when life felt this good.

I'd take it. Even if it only lasted a minute, I'd take it.

He was twirling a lock of my hair round and round, and I was kind of blissing out when he spoke. "Jasper?"

"Hmm?" I kind of wanted to fall asleep like this, in his arms, my head on his chest. Maybe it would prolong the moment.

"That was kind of crazy hot."

I snorted. "Yeah, I don't disagree with that assessment."

**_~Emmett~_ **

The next few days were actually really cool.

It wasn't as awkward as I thought it was going to be. That was the benefit of being an adult. It might have also helped that my whole family knew Jasper.

Edward finally got around to teasing us on Saturday. That's when I knew he was feeling better.

And, of course, he was all smiles when Bella came over.

"Dad said I shouldn't pester you so much," she said to Edward as the four of us kids were lounging in the living room.

We all scoffed. "Yeah, right," I muttered. "Kid could use a little pestering."

"Bite me." My little brother flipped me the bird. "Do me a favor. Go upstairs and pester your boyfriend so I can pester my girlfriend."

I knew an excellent idea when I heard one. So I grabbed Jasper by the wrist and took him upstairs to pester him. Then later, at dinner, Mom heard me picking on Edward, and she was like, "Emmett? Are you pestering your brother?"

She didn't understand why the four of us couldn't stop laughing.

"That's gross, Mom," I told her.

She pursed her lips, looking at me. "Do I want to know?"

Edward and I both shook our heads vehemently.

After dinner, we watched a movie with everyone. Well, mostly I watched Jasper.

There was entirely too much space between us on the couch, but never mind that. He got into this whole nerd-a-licious discussion with Dad over what was better - original Trek or the one movie where Chris Pine Kirk really should have just admitted to himself that he wanted to bone Zachary Quinto Spock. It was hilarious.

It was nice, too... how well he fit in with my family.

Had I mentioned there was too much space between us?

I was so jealous of my brother, huddled under a billion blankets, dozing with his head on Bella's shoulder.

It was a weird feeling. Really weird. I wasn't sure what to do with it.

I kept thinking about what Edward said. Maybe it wasn't so much as I was attracted to guys as I was attracted to Jasper.

There had been a weird sort of tension between us. At first, I thought it was the whole... we were best friends who kissed and touched and made each other come thing. I mean, it was a lot to get used to, right? It sure as fuck threw me for a loop frequently enough.

But what if there was something more to it?

And what if there was something to the way that sometimes, when it was the heat of the moment... there was this...

I didn't know. I didn't know what to make of it. But it made me all bubbly inside, which was weird. Bubbly and giddy and...

Just really, really scared.

Because it was a big feeling. Really big.

"You okay there, sugar?" Jasper asked, climbing into bed with me that night.

Which was another nice thing: having him beside me at night. It was nice. It really made me happy.

I'd never been shy when it came to something I wanted, but then, I'd never wanted something like I wanted this.

That was a revelation.

"Okay. Agh. Fuck." I swallowed. As vulnerable and confused as I'd been for weeks - months, whatever - this felt...

Well, there was no non-dramatic way to put it. It felt like he could completely destroy me or make me the happiest guy on the planet with a single word. I so wanted to take the coward's way out. I wanted to be silent and continue letting all this good stuff - who didn't like orgasms, right? - rain down on me without thinking about the long term consequences.

But, as hard as it was, I was a Cullen. My brother and I had been raised knowing we'd make mistakes and that it was our responsibility to learn from them. I'd broken Jasper's heart once, and I thought I knew why it had been that bad - worse because it was me saying those repulsive things to him.

Despite what I'd done, here he was again. If I was reading things right - and maybe I wasn't... this shit tended to go right over my head - he was putting his heart on the line again, waiting for it to get trampled. For me. Because I needed it.

It was just like Jasper to do something like that. It was what Jasper did for the people he loved.

My heart sped up to a gallop. I could hardly swallow past the lump in my throat.

As long as I'd known him, I'd wanted to protect him when he wouldn't protect himself. I had to do that now too.

"Okay," I tried again, blowing out a long breath of air. "I have to know what this is to you." I said it so fast, all the words seemed to run together. Jasper blinked. I started babbling like an idiot. "And I'm sorry I haven't asked before. Are you just trying to be nice, helping me figure things out? Or are you doing this because you want... something with me?"

His face flamed red in an instant, and he looked away. There was the Jasper I knew - all shy and such.

"This, uh..." He stumbled. "It's whatever you need it to be. I just want you to feel safe."

Well, that was nice, but it didn't answer my question. I felt frustrated. Why couldn't he just be straight with me?

I smirked inwardly at my inadvertent joke.

_Okay, let's try this again._

"That night that I... was touching you. That first night before I fucked everything up. Why did you stop me?"

He surprised me by rolling over, turning his back to me as he sat up. His laugh was nervous. "Come on, Emmett. You didn't want to do that with me then. Not really."

"Was that the only reason you stopped me?"

It was really just a feeling because I got to thinking... if he was in love with me, and I was doing all that crap to him, it must have felt awful. I'd have stopped it before it went that far too.

And Jasper's breathing was really unsteady now that I was pressing him. He was rubbing the back of his neck all nervous.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered quickly, almost more to himself.

Yeah.

I felt oddly like I was flying.

And I was shaking so bad.

Getting to my knees, I crept over to his side of the bed. His shoulders were rising and falling visibly, but he didn't turn as I came closer. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, but I knew what I wanted to do.

Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him from behind, around his waist.

I didn't have words for the way I was feeling, or why this felt so completely right. So good.

I knew how to act, though, and this time, I knew what I was doing.

His breaths were coming in little huffs as I started to stroke my hands over his stomach, pressing my lips to his neck. We were both trembling, but it was good. At least, it was for me.

I waited, but he didn't stop me.

He did tilt his head to the side, letting me kiss him a little more. I nuzzled his skin with the tip of my nose while he shivered.

Finally. Finally, he reached a hand behind him, threading his fingers into my hair. Best thing ever.

I smiled against his neck. Wide. Like an idiot.

Like a lovesick fool, really.

I had to say it. "I think I love you."

It was a whisper, but he heard it, and he laughed, but not in a bad way - in that giggly, breathless way.

When I said it, I knew it had to be true. And really, how could I not be? Jasper was the one person who knew me better than anyone else in the world.

My roommate, with the ridiculous as fuck, thick glasses and a penchant for pixels in scanty armor.

The man who'd looked out for me when I couldn't look out for myself.

He was kind to a fault, and so empathetic, he would let himself get torn to shreds if he thought it would help someone he loved.

I wanted to take care of him.

I wanted him there to hold me up when I needed it.

He turned in my arms, his lips going to mine. He was vigorous - real enthusiastic, and yeah, I was right with him.

I was so fucking happy, I couldn't stop grinning.

Cupping his cheek, I lay down with him, and our hands were everywhere - clutching at clothes, kneading at skin. We just didn't know where to start, I guessed. I really didn't care because I could kiss him forever.

We only stopped kissing long enough to frantically rip our shirts off, though don't ask me if I took off his or my own. One way or another, they both landed on the floor.

I was leaning over him, and his hands were between my legs, getting me all worked up before I could get naked enough. Fucker. But whatever. I was cool with anything tonight so long as he didn't stop touching me.

And he didn't.

That whole weekend had been about new ways to touch, to feel... discovering the differences between men and women.

That night, though, I kind of got the picture. I understood for the first time. None of the other shit mattered. It didn't matter that he was a dude and I was a dude. It didn't matter that he had hard muscle where I was used to soft breasts. That was all semantics.

What really mattered was the person you were with and why. Those girls? The pleasure I brought and took from them was honest. I cared for them. I did.

Touching Jasper when I knew I loved him and - though he hadn't said it - he loved me?

It was pure win.

When we were finally skin to skin, breathing through our noses because fuck, I didn't ever want to stop kissing him, our movements lost that frantic pace. We were sitting up in bed, all tangled together - arms and legs twisted.

It was sweet. So sweet. Tender.

He wrapped his hand around my cock, and I did the same for him. We stroked together. Slow at first. So slow.

I didn't know you could make love without penetration of any kind. I didn't know until that minute this feeling could exist.

He opened his eyes a little, and I was squinting back at him. Our kisses got more sloppy, more open mouthed panting than anything else as our hands moved faster, our fingers gripping firmer. Until I was just breathing in the air he breathed out and vice versa, our lips kinda brushing.

I did kiss him again, full on, plunging my tongue in his mouth when I felt him begin to pulse beneath my palm.

Guess some part of me remembered my family existed.

He jerked in my hand, and the moan he breathed into my mouth sent me straight into my own orgasm.

Holy fuck. My body shook.

We were holding each other upright as we came down, our foreheads resting against each other. His eyes searched mine. He smiled. It was such an awesome smile.

It made my whole body warm.

Or maybe that was the sexy stuff.

Either way, when I kissed him again and lay back down, still tangled up with him, I realized something just as I drifted off to sleep.

I wasn't scared at all anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So that happened.
> 
> Mucho thanks to jfka06, barburella, and shug for beta work!
> 
> One more real chapter, and then yes. There will be an epilogue.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys. The girls over at the Perv Pack Smut Shack wrote me the sweetest review for this story. Inspired me so much I sat down and ... finished it. Technically. I love you gals. A lot.
> 
> Dedication: To Barburella since she's going to kill me for posting this without letting her read all of it.

* * *

_**One Year Later** _

_**~Jasper~** _

I woke up slowly, in that space where I wasn't quite sure if I was conscious yet or still dreaming. An itch above my eyebrow lent credence to the whole awake theory, itching being something dreams forget about like bathroom breaks and the impossibility of travelling from one place to another in the space of a thought. But when I tried to raise my hand to scratch it away, I found myself anchored.

My eyes opened, and I blinked the sleep away.

Emmett was still asleep, his face finally peaceful after a long night that was the very opposite of easy. He had one hand tucked under his cheek, the other holding mine between us. He was still in his hoody, the hood pulled up over his head though the zipper was open. There were dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

My heart twisted as consciousness returned to me in full, and I remembered the night before.

I'd been studying for my midterms when I heard his key in the door. For a minute, I was all excitable. Emmett was all about the sexy surprises, and man, my head was already so far below the gutter by the time he got the door open, I was already hard.

But the look on his face. Good God. He was drained and lost. He fell into my arms - I almost crumpled, he was such a dead weight - and I could feel he was trembling something fierce as I rubbed his back and tried to get him to talk to me.

Apparently, there'd been some emergency, and Edward was in the hospital in Tacoma again.

I got so pissed off at him. I can't really say what I was thinking, railing at him the way I did then, but I was livid and scared. He'd been at the hospital with Edward most of the previous night, all of today, and I was sitting here clueless.

When Emmett's face crumpled and he lost any trace of strength he was holding onto, I felt like a horse's ass. Worse than. I couldn't get my arms back around him fast enough.

It wasn't always easy to be his rock under these circumstances. He and I were afraid of the same thing: that this was the beginning of the end for Edward. And I freaked out for a second, because Jesus Christ, how was I going to deal with it? How could I possibly deal with losing another sibling? I knew what it felt like, and I was in no hurry to be in that kind of pain again.

But it was just a brief moment of panic before I got my priorities straight. I cared about Edward because I loved Emmett. Emmett had no choice but to roll with whatever was happening with his brother, and the way I saw it, I had no choice but to be there by his side.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

So last night, I'd whispered to him and kissed him softly. I took him to our bed and rubbed his neck until he calmed down enough to speak. I'd held his hand while he rambled, telling me about the ups and downs of the last 24 hours of his life and venting his worst fears.

We fell asleep holding hands like that.

My heart was heavy but full of tenderness, of the love I had for this big bear of a man who had so much more heart in him than he let most people see.

He let me see it, and I knew some responsibility came with that.

Careful, so as not to wake him, I stroked the hood away from his face. He inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering a little. He wasn't awake, not really, but he was conscious enough that he wiggled toward me a bit so we were cuddled up together. He gave me an open-mouthed kiss before he fell back into the arms of sleep. Stroking his hair, I hoped for a little more of this peacefulness before we had to get up and face whatever today would bring.

My eyes trained on his sleeping face, I took those quiet morning minutes - the calm before the storm that was brewing - to remember the last year.

_**~0~** _

The first time he came home to the apartment after that weekend of the ever important I love you, it was a surprise.

I didn't even have time to think before he had me pressed against the wall, and then I couldn't care because oh em gee, my boyfriend was home and his hands were all over me.

Yeah. I had a boyfriend.

And the way he slipped his hands down my pants so he could cup my ass, bringing me up against him even as he squished me against the wall? Yeah, I was getting worked up right quick.

Guh.

Couldn't tell you exactly how it happened. He had my pants around my ankles before I could even process what was happening and dropped to his knees before I could say howdy.

Best. Hello. Everl

One thing for sure, Emmett had taken to the whole blow job thing easier than almost anything else. It shouldn't have been a surprise. He always was the type that would put anything in his mouth at least once, so why not cock?

As long as it was mine, I was happy with it.

"Holy fuck, sugar. That's good. So good." My head thrown back against the wall, I panted, tracing my fingers along his jaw, feeling where his lips were wrapped around my cock.

So hot. So fucking hot.

It was all the more fantastic because we'd been talking about exactly this for the couple weeks we'd been separated. Chyeah. Phone sex was hot, but this...

I moaned loud. I purely didn't give a damn if the neighbors heard us.

When I'd caught my breath, he was standing with his arm around me, which was good because my knees were a bit wobbly. I squinted at him and rolled my eyes because that smirk of his... Yeah, that was a shit eating grin if ever I'd seen one. Fucker. He knew he was good with his mouth. He just knew it.

So I reached for him, feeling how hard he was even through his jeans, but he shimmied away a bit, saying 'not yet.'

I was okay with this because the first thing he did then was lead me to the couch for some quality make out time. Hell yes. They weren't rough kisses, but the slow kind. The kind that spoke what we felt better than either of us could ever put words to. Sweet kisses, but deep. We'd mastered the art of breathing through our noses so we wouldn't have to let each other go for long periods of time. I stroked his tongue with mine, ran my fingers through his pretty curls and up and down his back, hitched my leg over his, and thought of absolutely nothing except how good this felt and how much I loved him.

I really did.

I didn't notice I was horizontal until I could feel his hardness poking at me through his jeans. I smiled against his lips, smirking because 'not now' was about to become 'right now', especially since I was on top.

Where was my cowboy hat when I needed it?

Bracing myself on my hands against the couch cushions, I started to grind against him. His hands were wrapped around my waist, his fingers beginning to press against my ass, urging me on. It was the best kind of power to know it was me who could make him whimper like that, make those tiny little whines come right out from the back of his throat.

It made me hot and bothered and hard all over again.

But he'd been worked up before, so he finished first.

"Fucker," he muttered when he caught his breath. "Now I gotta change. Would it kill you to let me get out of my pants before you do that shit?"

I waggled my eyebrows at him. "Now there's an idea." I leaned down, cupping his face in my hands, brushing my lips against his without quite kissing. "I'm in favor of a no pants in the house rule."

There was that mischievous twinkle in his eye again - that marker that was so distinctly Emmett. But it was soft around the edges. He brought his hand up to brush the pads of his fingers against my cheek. "You're insatiable, Whitlock." He was teasing me - Emmett was always teasing - but the tone of his voice was huskier. "It's like you can't get enough of my cock or something."

"True statement is true," I mumbled shamelessly before I kissed him again, rocking against him.

I would do this all night if we could.

But that was when I remembered, we couldn't.

Or rather, I shouldn't.

"Ah, hell," I muttered, straightening up.

His hands were on my ass, but he stilled his movements as he looked up at me. "What?"

I grimaced and unmounted. "Well, I didn't know you were coming."

He snickered. "I already came."

I rolled my eyes so hard. "I promised Alice I'd let her drag me to a party tonight," I admitted quietly.

He sat up on the couch, a hint of uncertainty painting his features. "You don't mean Jake's party, do you?"

Jake's parties had reached an epic status. He was frequently the talk of the campus.

"Yeah, Jake's party."

Emmett grunted and looked away. I watched him, not really knowing what to say as he tilted his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger - a move I'd seen both his father and brother do when they were agitated about something.

He took a deep breath before he looked back at me. "Okay. I'll come with you. If that's okay." He tried to smile, but it didn't come out right.

I didn't know what to say, and I didn't want to assume what he meant. We cleaned up and got dressed. He smiled a little, more enthusiastic-like, when he brought over a hat of his he'd always told me I looked good in.

When we got to Jake's door, my heart was pounding. I still didn't know what to expect. Emmett had walked beside me mostly silent the whole way across campus, but there was some distance between us. He walked with his shoulders slumped and his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

I kind of wanted to give him a hug, but I was pretty sure that would make whatever this was worse.

When Jake opened the door, he pulled Emmett into one of those back pounding man-hugs. "It's real good to see you, bro. I didn't know you were around!" He gave Emmett one of his wide Jake-grins and a knowing look. "So you need a date for the evening?"

Emmett laughed in way that sounded like someone had his testicles in a vice grip. Poor boy looked sallow. I geared up to slip into the crowd, telling myself I understood. After all, I knew Emmett's friends. They were testosterone-filled guy's guys - the epitome of all that was red-blooded males. They weren't gay-bashing assholes or anything like that, but still. It was gonna be awkward, and Emmett wasn't so far out of the closet I should expect him to be comfortable with strangers, let alone surrounded by a party-full of his pals.

But before I could get more than a step, he'd reached out and snatched my hand.

Mine weren't the only eyes that stared at him in surprise.

"No thanks," he said calmly. "I came here with a date."

_**~0~** _

"Hey."

Emmett's voice was gravely and soft near my ear, but it was him rolling on his side, putting his arm around me that actually woke me up.

"Hmm?" I hummed.

"You were smiling in your sleep."

I nudged closer to him, looping an arm around his waist and burrowing in. He was warm, like always. I used to think his muscular body would be too lumpy to enjoy a good cuddle with, but that wasn't the case. Really, I liked the way he was so big and broad, he surrounded me. I wasn't exactly a little guy myself, so it was nice.

"Was dreaming about Jake's party."

" _The_ party?"

"Mmmhmm.

He scoffed. "Remember the look on Jake's face?"

"I was too busy trying to figure out if you were gonna throw up."

He grumbled. "I was fine."

I pressed a long kiss to his forehead. "You were braver than I could have been."

"Brave." He scoffed. The word was muffled seeing as his lips were searching for mine by way of my neck and jaw.

He'd told me once, he didn't see it as being brave. He'd brushed it off, saying it was a means to an end. He was all for me being more social, and he wasn't ready to stop kissing me yet. So it just made more sense to get it all out in the open.

_**~Emmett~** _

This was the fantastic thing about having a boyfriend.

Any excuse was a good excuse to kiss. Heck yeah. Who said relationships didn't have their perks?

Actually, really, there were a lot of perks. A lot, a lot.

All things considered, I was a really happy guy. And I knew how lucky I was given the circumstance. The last year could have really sucked. But it made all the difference in the world to have someone.

But I didn't want to think about the reason this year had sucked so much. Especially not right then.

Like I said. Any excuse was a good excuse to kiss your boyfriend.

And he was kind of hot - this guy.

So I really couldn't be blamed for how much further than kissing this was going to get.

See, the great thing about Jasper was he usually knew how I felt, what I needed, without me having to say anything. He knew where this was going, what I wanted. He was straddling me not a minute later.

Or, you know, maybe he just couldn't get enough of my cock. Which, really, who could blame him?

I'd be all over my cock if I was physically capable of it.

We were good at this, real good.

Course, that wasn't always the case.

_**~0~** _

"Babe, isn't this a prerequisite of the whole liking dudes thing?"

We were lying side by side in my bed at home. We'd been together for about four months. The whole sex thing was really becoming an elephant in the room.

There was a joke in there somewhere. Elephant trunk. My...

Yeah, anyway.

"You know, I heard a lot of couples don't have sex," Jasper mumbled. He wasn't looking at me, but staring up at the ceiling.

I chortled. "Do you actually believe that?"

"Well. No."

The problem was the double virgin situation.

Technically speaking, Jasper hadn't had sex. At least not that kind of sex. The penetration stuff.

And of course, I'd always been the penetrator. And it had always been... you know... pussy.

I could tell myself all I wanted that being male or female didn't matter, and it didn't in the most important ways, but there was still some nervousness about the idea of having someone inside me like that.

Course, we didn't really know what our roles were supposed to be either. Was this something other guys knew naturally?

I rolled over and started to do this thing he liked, running my hand over his chest. "Come on. No one's died from this right?"

He got an adorably perplexed look on his face. "I... I don't think so. I mean. In the history of the world, I suppose someone has died of everything. So probably it's killed someone somewhere. But probably not in this-"

I kissed him. To shut him up.

And because he was so fucking cute sometimes, I couldn't even help myself.

Next thing you knew, he was pinned underneath me, my fingers entwined in his above his head. We were rubbing and kissing, and...

I kind of wanted to be inside him.

Or who knew. I didn't know. I just wanted him. I wanted to clear that last hurdle one way or another.

I broke our kiss, hovering over him. "What's your hang up?" I asked, kissing the tip of his nose.

He was running his hands up and down my back, looking a little embarrassed. "I dunno. Performance anxiety?" He laughed nervously. "I'm 21, and I've never gone all the way with anyone." He snorted. "See, technically I'm more of a virgin than you are. So I'm... yeah, a little nervous." He eyed me. "Why? What's your hang up?"

I kinda made a choking noise. "Are you kidding?"

"Um. No?"

I rolled back over onto my back, laughing a little. "You have seen your cock, right?"

He blinked back at me, still clueless.

"Wow. Obviously I suck as a boyfriend," I muttered.

He snickered. "Well, yeah, but I wasn't complaining about that. I actually find that really hot."

I smacked him on the chest. "Come on, this is serious. I need to rectify this situation immediately."

"Oh, I've got something for you to rectify, sugar." He waggled his eyebrows at me.

"Deflection isn't going to work." I rolled over again so I was holding myself up on my arms above him. "Jasper. Boyfriend. Love of my life."

He was trying not to laugh at me.

"You, cowboy, are extremely well hung. Like, frighteningly so."

"Frightening?"

"Well, if you want to stick that thing in me? Yeah. I mean, the mouth wasn't so big of a deal cuz, let's face it, I've had my lips wrapped around a whole submarine sandwich, but elsewhere? Yeah." Lowering myself a bit, I brushed kisses against his cheeks. "That's a little scary."

He was blushing. And smiling. So I had to kiss him again. And I didn't feel like joking around.

It was a more serious kind of kiss.

I wrapped my arms around him as I laid back down rolling him to his side with me. "Babe, I'm not trying to rush you. But whichever way you want to do this, it's fine with me."

"Seriously?" He squirmed a little. "So if I wanted to try uh... topping?"

Not gonna lie, my stomach did a nervous lurch.

Really - total and complete respect for girls, because they let people in them all the time. Damn.

I grinned at him though. "Let's do this thing."

Well. We tried. We did. And it wasn't bad for me. It was weird. But there was a lot of pleasure.

Yeah, believe me. Jasper and I had explored all those awesome nerve endings with other parts of us already.

I mean, yeah there was some stretchy pain, but really no worse than feeling the burn of a particularly good work out.

But it was awkward. There was just something... off.

Jasper let out a big whoosh of air and kind of fell over my back, pulling out of me as he did. "Can't do this," he muttered.

"Okay. That's okay." I knew he was feeling self conscious so, as much as I wanted to, now wasn't the time to joke. I straightened out and gathered him to me.

He looked a little uncertain. "Emmett... what if I wanted to try something Peter suggested."

I bristled a little. I knew I was being ridiculous, but he knew how much I hated hearing about what Peter thought about our love life.

What? Peter had his hands on my boyfriend's cock before I did. I couldn't help it.

But... Dude did have more experience in this arena. And obviously if Jasper was thinking about it enough to bring it up with me while we were all naked and shit, it had to be important.

"Okay. What did Peter say?"

He screwed up his lips, and rather than answer, he got on top of me, straddling me. I put my hands on his hips automatically to steady him. He started doing that sliding thing we were so good at. I was already half-mast from all the sex stuff before, so he got me worked up real quick.

"Let me control it, okay?" he said, his voice trembling a little.

Then I realized what he was going to do.

Fuck. He intended to ride my dick. Ah, hell. That was...

Yeah. I was already having a hard time staying still.

But he was nervous. I could see it.

I rubbed his back with firm strokes while he took my cock in his hands, coating me with lube. Plenty of lube. Holding his gaze, I did a little reach around, getting some in his crack and making him do a little jump.

He really was adorable sometimes.

The atmosphere got all serious then, intense. He was looking down at me with those eyes and that smile.

Jesus, he had a sexy smile. It did things for me, sent tingles down my body. Even when he smiled at me from across a room like that, I got this little thrill because... wow.

How awesome was it that this was all mine? He was all mine.

I took his hands, threading our fingers together as I squeezed. "Kinda love you, dude."

His smile got wider. He leaned down to kiss me, a long slow kiss. "Kinda love you too, Em."

He lifted himself then, and I had to bite my lip when he started to slide down on me. He was going so slow.

"You're good, babe," I kept murmuring to him. All I wanted to do was thrust. Fuck. It felt good. It felt so good, him sliding down around me.

Tight. So hot. Heat hot, not just - I was so turned on. So good.

"Fuck," he said through clenched teeth.

"You okay?" I was panting.

"Yeah. Yeah. It's, uh. It's good."

"Keep coming, baby. This is so fucking... yeah." I was about to be reduced to grunts and groans.

He splayed his hands on my chest, letting me in deeper. "You like this?"

"Understatement." Yep. That was guttural.

"You like this?" he asked again, gyrating his hips.

I groaned, beyond words, and nodded.

He started moving on me, slow at first. Painfully slow. I gritted my teeth, wrapping my fingers around his side. His skin was so slick with sweat. I loved the way his body felt under my hands - skin so taut over muscle. So good.

"You okay?" I asked again.

"Yeah, Em. You're so thick."

"Uh. I'm sorry?" I really couldn't think straight at all.

He laughed, lowering his head to kiss me. Sweet kisses. Pecks between pants.

"Love you," he mumbled.

"Love you," I answered because I did. Really. A lot.

I reached between us, taking his cock in my hands, stroking him as he rode me.

He was looking at me. He never stopped.

It made me breathless. It was a lot - a feeling too big to hold in my chest.

I never got used to that feeling. Never. But I kind of didn't want to. I never wanted to get used to it. I never wanted it to stop surprising me with how good it could be.

It was amazing being inside him.

He was part of me, this man. My best friend. My boyfriend. My love.

Jasper kept telling me I was just a big softy. I always rolled my eyes.

Maybe he was right.

When he was curled up beside me, panting in my ear to catch his breath, I raised my shaky hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. "Hey, Jazz?"

"Yeah?"

I grinned at him. "Guess you really are a cowboy now, eh?"

He laughed.

_**~0~** _

Sex with Jasper was great, but so was the time afterward.

Yeah, I was a cuddler. Wanna fight about it?

I was just beginning to relax again, forgetting for a minute that this bubble was going to burst at some point and I'd have to be back at the hospital. And I just had this horrible feeling about it.

"You've gone all tense, sugar," Jasper said softly, rubbing my back.

I just grunted at him turning my face into his neck, breathing deep.

His hands were in my hair.

And of course, that was when there was a knock at the door.

I redefined tense then.

"Put some pants on," Jasper prompted, going to answer the door.

I was moving mechanically, not thinking at all. I didn't want to think about anything.

I was shaking so hard by the time I was ready, I could hardly open the door.

Dad was in our living room. He'd obviously been crying. "Emmett," he said, and his voice was a whisper.

I shrank back.

If he came in person...

"Emmett." Jasper was by my side in an instant, his hands cupping my face. "Whoa now. Breathe. Listen to him, okay? Just listen."

I was shaking my head like a little kid who didn't want to eat his vegetables.

I didn't want to hear this. Not at all.

"Emmett." My dad again. He was kneeling beside me. I didn't even remember my legs giving out. "It's okay. You hear me? Your brother. He's going to be just fine."

I blinked. Not comprehending those words at all. "What?" My voice was hoarse. I leaned into Jasper who had his arms around me.

Dad smiled. He was smiling through his tears. "He's going to be fine. The cancer is gone again."

"But... the hospital... And he..." I totally just couldn't comprehend anything.

"You know his immune system it... well, it sucks," Dad said with a sigh. "But the cancer is gone. He'll recover. We'll help him."

"He's gonna be okay, sugar." Jasper this time, of course.

And I believed him.

"We're all going to be okay."

He was crying. I was crying. Dad was crying.

And Jasper was right.

We were all going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So yes. There are a couple loose ends to be tied, and that will take place in the epilogue I believe.
> 
> I will save most of the MOOSH for then. I'm hella tired right now, y'all.
> 
> Ultimate thanks tonight to Shug who saved me from a weepy mood and then beta'ed this sucker at 1 in the morning which is like... 3 her time or something. Crazy. I'm so spoiled.
> 
> So what are we thinking, lovelies?


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Shmoopy mc schmoop schmoop. I love you guys, but more of that at the bottom. Did you see this fic is dangerously close to 1k reviews? That's INSANE for a slash that is not J/E. I love you! Have I mentioned that?

~Carlisle~

 

“Coming through!”  
  
I had to move to the railing as my children went barreling by, giggling, with their significant others perched on their backs.  
  
Despite the fact a warm day in Forks wasn’t really all that warm, the four of them were acting like we lived in Florida. Bella was clinging to Edward’s neck, ducking as she tried to simultaneously target Jasper with a squirt gun and avoid the spray from his gun. Jasper wasn’t ducking at all, but holding on to Emmett’s neck as he shot her mercilessly.  
  
“G’dammit, Jasper. You can’t aim worth a damn. You’re getting more on Edward than on Bella,” Emmett protested.  
  
“Just what is going on here?” an amused voice demanded from behind me. I turned slightly to watch my wife descend the stairs to the backyard.  
  
“Save a horse, ride a Cullen. Right, Bella?” Jasper asked, sputtering as Bella took her chance to shoot him right in his yapping mouth.  
  
My wife arched her eyebrow at me as if to ask, _these kids, can you believe they’re all adults_?  
  
I pretended to misunderstand her. “Don’t look at me, honey. My knees aren’t as good as they used to be.”  
  
Esme made a face at me. “Are you calling me fat?”  
  
I started stuttering, and my sons started laughing, the traitors.  
  
“So the uncanny ability to stick your foot in your mouth is a Cullen trait, eh?” Jasper asked Emmett, grinning and wrapping an arm around his waist.  
  
Emmett just grinned and leaned forward to peck him on the lips. “You’re a Cullen.”  
  
There was such pride in his voice. To outsiders, it might have been mildly amusing, how much this statement satisfied my eldest boy.  
  
Jasper’s answering smile was wide and blinding. “Well, luckily for me, you can’t inherit bad habits by marriage.”  
  
“Thank goodness for that,” Bella muttered, twisting the engagement ring my youngest had finally managed to get her to wear around and around on her finger.  
  
Edward pretended to look wounded. “What? What bad habits do I have?”  
  
They all started talking at once, and Edward glared. With a little squeal, Bella ducked behind Jasper to get away from her ‘menacing’ fiance. Then she climbed up on his back.  
  
“Whoa, hey,” Emmett protested. “What’s going on here?”  
  
“Saving a horse. Riding a Cullen,” Bella quipped back, ducking her head as Jasper helped her play keep-away from Edward.  
  
“Yeah, but that’s my Cullen. Get your own!”  
  
He lifted her off Jasper, his arms around her waist, and Bella kicked her feet in the air, laughing.  
  
“Well,” Esme said quietly, her hand on my shoulder. “Isn’t this a pretty picture.”  
  
Watching my sons - thriving and in love - I had to agree. I patted her hand and squeezed tight. “We’re very lucky.”

**_~0~_ **

  
This was a gross invasion of privacy, and I knew it.  
  
Even now, over six years later, there were days my psyche plunged me into nightmares, and I woke believing Edward had lost his battle with the disease that, truthfully, threatened to destroy both my boys.  
  
Luckily for Esme, tonight both my sons were back under my roof for the weekend, and so rather than wake her, depending on her to calm me down, I headed for the stairs up to the third floor.  
  
Outside Edward’s room, I paused, awake enough now to understand what I was doing and why it was wrong. I had no excuse. I listened, knowing full well what I could be opening the door to if I walked in on my 24-year-old son and his fiance.  
  
Hearing nothing, I carefully stepped just inside.  
  
Edward was sleeping peacefully, his breaths even and deep and perfectly in tune with the little brunette who slept in his arms.  
  
Reassured, I closed the door again and turned automatically to the room directly across from his. Again I paused and listened. Again I heard nothing, and so I opened Emmett’s door too.  
  
I was surprised to find him alone, his body angled toward the empty side of the bed, his hand out as if searching.  
  
To this day, Emmett always seemed surprised when I tried to look after him. That made my heart ache.  
  
In my dreams - my nightmares - sometimes it was Emmett that was sick. Or sometimes, he slipped away while I wasn’t watching.  
  
Any parent would tell you there’s no such thing as being prepared for kids. There was no guide book for this. There wasn’t any one right answer. Every child, every situation was different.  
  
I didn’t try to excuse myself.  
  
Esme said once that most of the time, Emmett was the only thing in our lives who could wait for our attention and so he did. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t any more fair than Edward spending the vast majority of his teen years fighting simply to survive.  
  
Edward, with modern medicine and his own will, beat his disease. Twice. And Emmett...  
  
Thank goodness for Jasper.  
  
I found my son’s husband downstairs in the kitchen.  
  
Jasper was a night owl. This was a well known fact in our family. Sure enough, he was settled at the table, laptop open and eyes intent on his game. He pulled a pair of enormous headphones off his ears when I came in the room and sat across from him.  
  
I would forever regret that it took a crisis of his own for Emmett’s long buried personal questions to make themselves known. Retrospect was a damning thing. In hindsight, I saw how my and Esme’s actions reinforced Emmett’s belief that he needed to be the easy child. He tried so hard to be the perfect son, putting aside his needs because they weren’t as dire as Edward’s.  
  
By the time I realized what we’d done to Emmett, he was beyond our help. We just weren’t the ones he could lean on for this particular journey. It hurt. It hurt a lot. That time was a low point in my life. One son’s life hung in the balance while the other grappled with a confusion so deep it rocked him. My unshakable son who never stopped smiling was withdrawn, the light gone from his eyes for a time.  
  
Little by little, though, Jasper brought him back to us.  
  
It wasn’t easy hearing about the battles Emmett had fought only after they happened. Yes, of course, Esme and I were still very much focused on Edward who needed a greater amount of care, but I liked to think that once we’d realized the mistake we made, we would have done our best to help Emmett too, if he’d come to us.  
  
But we were both grateful to Jasper for being with him through all those rough moments.  
  
It must have been a blow, for instance, when some people Emmett thought of as friends couldn’t handle the changes in him. Jacob’s friendship had never wavered, but the same couldn’t be said for others.  
  
In particular was a woman who had once been very important to my eldest, Rosalie. I never got the full story out of him, but she’d taken his news very poorly.  
  
From what I understood, they’d only recently begun to repair that relationship, but it had been a low point for Emmett going through that regardless.  
  
“What’s all this?” I asked curiously, shaking away old regrets of things I couldn’t change and gesturing to what looked like post-it notes sticking out of Jasper’s laptop bag. They were all in a jumble, some crinkled and worn.  
  
“Oh, uh...” To my surprise, the young man’s cheeks turned a shade of red I was used to only seeing on Bella. He gave me a sheepish smile. “They’re, uh... They’re from Emmett.”  
  
I raised an eyebrow. Really, I should have minded my own business, but I was curious about Jasper’s reaction. They were just post-it notes, weren’t they?  
  
Jasper rolled his eyes. “It’s probably silly of me to keep them. You know our work schedules have been hectic the last few months, and sometimes it feels like days go by that I don’t see him. So he leaves these on the fridge for me to find.”  
  
Ah. I had to smirk. Of course Emmett’s version of a love letter would be a note on the fridge. “It’s not silly to keep them,” I said quietly.  
  
Without Jasper, I reflected, I never would have guessed that my big, burly, bear of a son was capable of this kind of romanticism. Esme and I used to muse that our Emmett - our restless soul who could never sit still - might be one of those perpetual bachelors. We couldn’t really imagine him settling down.  
  
But he was settled and happily so.  
  
It was about three months ago that he and Jasper ran off to Vegas. They didn’t tell anyone but came to the house for a visit one day wearing wedding bands. Emmett told me later, they had a bet as to how long it would take the rest of us to figure it out, and who it would be.  
  
Jasper won.  
  
Esme, of course.  
  
Jasper’s guess had been it would take her under a minute. If I’d been allowed to wager, I’d have won for certain. It took her less than ten seconds after they walked in the door. I could have told them that.  
  
“Can I ask you a personal question?”  
  
My son-in-law glanced up from his game, arching an eyebrow.  
  
“Why did you take Emmett’s last name when you married?”  
  
I’d wanted to ask for the last three months, but there were always more important questions. Especially for my wife, who was still a little put out that there would be no ceremony where she could cry - okay, I’ll admit I would probably cry too - and the family could celebrate their union.  
  
Jasper looked a little sad. “It’s kind of tied up in the reason we didn’t want a ceremony.”  
  
“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”  
  
“No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “It’s not a secret.  
  
“The long and short of it is that we wanted to have the same last name. Emmett’s very proud of his family, very proud to be a Cullen, but he would have changed his name if that’s what we decided.” Jasper smiled fondly. “We came up with some pretty decent combinations.  
  
“But when it came down to it, I realized I wasn’t so attached to my last name. Really, I was much more attached to his family - to your family - than I was to mine.” He was looking down when he said it, as if he was a little ashamed.  
  
I felt a flash of annoyed irritation. Not at him, but at his parents. It was an old feeling, but it didn’t get easier to swallow down as the years went by.  
  
I didn’t think the Whitlocks knew how to handle all the changes their son had gone through. I tried not to judge. How could I know how it would feel - to lose their youngest child and then to send their eldest so far away from them, only to get him back completely changed.  
  
Maybe it felt like they’d lost both their children, in a way. I’d have thought losing one child would have only helped them appreciate their remaining child all the more, regardless of how he might have grown, but again, I had never walked in those shoes.  
  
Even if they were completely comfortable with the idea that Jasper was attracted to men - which, they weren’t complete idiots about it, but they most certainly weren’t comfortable - they disliked my son and didn’t bother to hide it.  
  
Emmett had often vented to me about the situation. He worried that it was the Whitlock’s disdain of him that made them so aloof with Jasper - which hurt him very much. And Emmett couldn’t stand to see Jasper hurt, especially not because of him.  
  
“It was Emmett who helped me realized who I was supposed to be, and this family who accepted me as who I really am. You always welcomed me as a son,” Jasper continued quietly. “You and Esme are like second parents to me. I felt - I feel - like Edward’s brother. I even adore Bella like a sister. And I wanted to be your son.”  
  
I put my hand over his, giving him a gentle squeeze before I let go. “You are my son, Jasper.”  
  
I meant it. The boy was dear to me. Bella was, too.  
  
Before the moment could get too mushy, we were both distracted by footsteps on the stairs. I peered over my shoulder in time to see Emmett appear, rubbing his eyes.  
  
I covered my mouth with my hand to smother my laughter. Emmett looked like an overgrown version of the tiny boy he’d once been. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, obviously half asleep, his dark curls sticking up in every direction as he blinked, trying to focus.  
  
He blinked a few more times, his lips pouting slightly, before he held his hand out.  
  
Many years ago, when he was tiny, it was me he was reaching for.  
  
Today, though, it was Jasper who smiled patiently, shutting down his laptop.  
  
“You were gone,” Emmett muttered grumpily. He really wasn’t awake at all.  
  
“Sorry, sugar. Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He twined their fingers, gently tugging Emmett back up the stairs, stopping only to wave goodnight to me.  
  
Watching them go, I reflected again how very lucky I was. I had two beautiful boys, healthy and thriving. Despite their own separate stumbling blocks, they were weaving the future of our family together, bringing amazing individuals into our fold. Jasper. Bella.  
  
And there was so much more to look forward to.  
  
Emmett had admitted to me that he, Jasper, and Jasper’s best friend Alice had recently begun talking about the future. It seemed Alice didn’t want children but had told them she would carry theirs if and when they were ready.  
  
They were thinking about it. Very seriously.  
  
If and when they brought their own kids into the world, I would tell my children that you couldn’t be prepared for what life was going to throw at you. They knew how to love. They would be wonderful parents, I had no doubt. And if, by some chance, they couldn’t be enough, I wished for their children the same thing Emmett had found in Jasper.  
  
A person who would stand by them, and help them find who they were supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SO.
> 
> Thank you to all of you for coming along on this journey. I am particularly proud of this little fic, so your words have meant so much to me.
> 
> Thank you to Shug, jfka06, and barburella for their endless support.
> 
> And TwilightMundi who is still my sunshine.
> 
> What's coming next for me in slashville? I have a Jasper/Carlisle (holy crap) I'll be working on shortly, as well as a Jasper/Edward HS fic. I'm also still toying with the idea of a sequel to my Jasper/Riley fic, Got Your Back.
> 
> Until then, all my love and happy slashing.


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